Following the Night
by ithinkimae
Summary: Jon Snow goes north for The Wall. A fiery Dornish girl follows the same path north. Yet the farther she goes, the less sure she is of what, or whom, is leading her. Jon S./OC AU.
1. Chapter One

**A/N: **I'm excited to start this story and will be super excited if I get some interested readers. I'm in between "Crowning the Moon" and its sequel "Capturing the Moon" (I haven't abandoned it, promise!) so getting this out of my system is just giving me some breathing room whilst I gather my thoughts to start/finish those stories.  
So let me know what you think about this one in the meantime! Happy reading :)

**Chapter One**

* * *

_Adara_

* * *

King's Landing: capital of the Seven Kingdoms, seat of kings, festering city of filth. Blackwater Bay, the waters that the city flanked must have only acquired such a name only after years of contamination.

Unless one was of the nobility or of wealth, there was no way such a place could be seen as a capital city of much pride. The stench of the city had been known to accost travelers and visitors alike for centuries. And those coming from villages and hamlets of both lesser population and distinction were the people who were most struck by the filthiness of the city. People like Adara.

Coming from the burnt red mountains of Dorne did more than give her the distinct looks of her Stony Dornishmen ancestors, it gave her a pride and an unwavering deference to the sun and her willful ancestors that had kept their independence far longer than the other kingdoms. Her pride and stubbornness were worn just as unconsciously as the dark freckles that covered her tanned skin. A look that gave her away as not only Dornish but also common.

Adara LePage's lithe form climbed one of the many hills that King's Landing was known for. She shaded her eyes, looking less for something, more so trying to get her bearings in this new city she was set on making her own.

Perhaps it wasn't ideal but, like many other truths Adara didn't like, she pushed that thought down, squashing is like a bug underfoot. At 17, Adara was heady with the thought of starting her life— really starting it. The whole of her life had been spent in the hot mountains of Dorne with her father. Her father, who had given her more than just a fiery temper and willful need to always be right but, possibly her lone redeeming quality, the ability to work magic with her hands. His healing ways had been passed from his father and from before him his father's father. With no son to give these gifts, Danavan LePage had taught Adara every grain of knowledge he possessed.

His death was what had ended her training, as he said it would. He believed knowledge was a process; it could never be wholly attained.

Adara had left the only place she had known after the only person she had in the world left it. The only person save her sister. The sister she now searched for in a city Adara was beginning to detest.

If she had been a more self-conscious person she may have noticed the looks she attracted. The thoughts of others rarely effected her, even less so whether she was liked. Her thoughts were more easily burdened by incurable fevers or reoccurring ailments. Her father had often cursed her sex as often as their penury; the Citadel may have offered her knowledge even he did not possess. Such an education would have ensured her future. Instead, she had come to this harsh city, destitute and alone.

Adara walked down a hill that had been marked Rhaenys's, a name she recognized as Targenyn and inwardly cursed. She still knew them only as conquerers. By the time she was at the base of the hill she was amidst a slum, the worst- and only- she had ever seen. She nearly gagged at the stench.

She turned to avoid the crooked, muck-filled alleyways before her. She knew her sister, Gisella would not be in such a place. Though she and her sister were raised poor, Gisella had left Dorne when she was sixteen. She had left with dreams of being dancer and finding fortune in a city filled with opportunities. Unlike Adara, Gisella hadn't come alone; she had traveled north with the boy she was to marry when they had the means to start a life together. As much as Adara wanted to see her sister, she was even more excited to see Piers, by now her brother by law, he has always been like a true brother to her when they were growing up in the south.

Adara held the lone letter from Gisella that had a clue to her whereabouts though it was written over a year ago, it told of the success that she had found in King's Landing, but all of her letters over the years had kept Adara and their father aware of her good fortune and happiness. Adara had been walking the city for the better part of the morning and, being satisfied that she had seen much of the city- even getting near to the Red Keep on Aegon's Hill, she decided to seek out Gisella. Adara's only hint to her location the name within the letter she kept in her rucksack. She didn't need to get the letter out to know the the name sought. Chataya- the woman who lead the troupe of dancers Gisella was part of.

She stopped and watched the rush of people around her, getting jostled a few times before moving out of the rush. She stopped a woman passing by.

"Excuse me, do you know where I can find Chataya? She—"

"Pshaw!" The woman nearly spat at her before continuing on her way.

Shocked out of a response, Adara glared at the woman's retreating back. Now she knew for certain she didn't like these northerns.

Adara stopped a man this time. "Excuse me, sir, I'm looking for a woman named Chataya."

His ruddy face lit up with amusement. He examined her and laughed. "Sorry lass, you're not the type for her, maybe get a little more meat on them bones," he reached for her boney arm.

Adara pulled back forcefully. "Sir- not presume to," she felt the ire rising but pushed it down, she needed his information and slapping him would probably not help. "Please, where can I find her?"

His dark brows furrowed, confused for a moment, he had the grace to look embarrassed. "Uh, I'm not sure, that is, I believe you can find her establishment behind Rhaenys's Hill." He ducked his head and hurried away.

Confused herself, Adara was at least pleased she knew where she headed. The slums she had briefly passed where near Rhaenys's Hill. She just hoped Gisella was not somewhere in there.

It took about 15 minutes on foot to get back to the hill but she didn't have to do much looking.

"Gentlemen, please see what charms await you within, Chataya's ladies are the loveliest in the seven kingdoms." A dark woman in near see-through gown called in a very affected voice from a balcony above a two story house that opened out into a lush courtyard.

Adara hurried to the building. She called up to the woman, "is this where I can find Chataya? I'm looking for my sister, Gisella LePage."

The woman looked at her with laughter in her eyes, she turned from the balcony. "Hey! We got a 'Gisella' here?" Adara couldn't hear the response. The woman turned back to Adara below.

"You're looking for Helenia."

Adara didn't have a chance to ask her what that meant as the woman called out to a well dressed man crossing the courtyard.

Unsure, Adara entered the house. It was dark inside and if Adara had felt assaulted before by the stench of the city, she was now assailed by the scent of heavy perfumes within. She couldn't help but cough as she stood in the foyer.

A woman wearing next to nothing glided past her. "Wait! I'm looking for, Helenia? Is she here?" Adara crossed her arms and tried to not look at the woman's nakedness.

She smiled and didn't give an immediate response which Adara was getting impatient for.

"I'm her sister. Can you please tell her Adara is here?" She said gruffly. How strange these people are, Adara thought.

The woman dropped her smile and bid Adara to wait there.

Nearly twenty minutes passed until the woman returned. At this point Adara was highly annoyed and severely confused by the noises she heard coming from behind closed doors.

"This way,"

"It's about time." Adara snapped as she followed her. She couldn't help but notice the woman's gait seemed highly unnatural, moving her whole body with each step. Her steps were as exaggerated at the woman's voice; so very overacted.

Adara was led through a wide corridor that was lit by large colored lamps, even in day, Adara noticed. The glowing light gave the place a feigned ambiance. Adara shivered involuntarily.

The woman opened a door near the end of the hallway, "you sister." As Adara stepped in the dim room the door was shut promptly behind her.

She saw Gisella sitting with her back to her before a looking glass, brushing her dark blonde hair. Hair that had once matched Adara's own white blonde. Hair, unlike skin, lightened under the harsh southern sun. Adara was surprised by how different her sister now looked— her sister who had looked her twin, separated only by their five year age difference.

Adara slowly approached her, unsure if this truly was her sister. "Gisella?"

The elder girl looked at the younger through the mirror. She didn't turn. "What are you doing here, Addy?"

Adara hurried to her side after hearing sister's old nickname for her. In a rare moment of familiarity, Adara embraced her sister. "Oh Gisella, I'm sorry I didn't write but it happened so quickly. Father died and I- I didn't have anyone else. I thought I'd come to King's Landing, like you. Like you and Piers."

Adara pulled away from her sister when she realized she wasn't returning her hug. "What?" She demanded, seeing the indifferent look her sister held.

Gisella stood and moved to a low laying chaise. She studied her sister silently. Now Adara could see every last freckle had faded from her face but her sharp green eyes held in the displeasure that threatened to boil over in usual Dornish hot-bloodedness. Clearly Gisella had learned to hold her tongue in her new home.

"Do you even know where you are?" Gisella at least lacked the contrived voice she had heard before.

"I thought you were a dancer here, you letters to father and I said that's what you did here." Adara paused. Now she wasn't so sure.

"You're in a brothel, little sister."

Perhaps she was letting her naiveté show by the incredulity that showed on her face. But it was promptly replaced by abhorrence.

Adara's heart broke only for a moment; her sister, so pretty and hopeful had left home when she was sixteen. Now she saw a woman of twenty-two years who had lost both her novel prettiness and and hopefulness.

"But why?" Adara demanded now embarrassed by her ignorance and angry that her sister had lied. "And what about Piers? What does he think of this?"

Gisella rolled her eyes. "I haven't seen him in... months now. It doesn't matter what he thinks now."

It was too much for Adara to comprehend. Every conception she had had of this place, of her sister's life, was false. "Why did you lie? We thought you where a dancer. Father and I thought you were safe here and married to Piers."

"Well I suppose I do a sort dancing here," Adara flinched at her sister's lewd comment. "And I couldn't have father worry, besides, everything turned out fine. I'm safe."

"And Piers?" Adara couldn't imagine a world in which her sister and Piers were not together. The three had spent the long summer of their lives together until they had left together. He had been an older brother to Adara. And Gisella and he had easily fallen in love with the golden boy who had only had eyes for her.

"Piers is… Piers. He's fine, I'm sure. Honestly, I don't see him anymore. He's a stablehand at the Red Keep, last I heard." Gisella shrugged lazily.

"I hate this place." Adara couldn't help it, she hated what it had done to her sister. And to Piers.

"Are you still so dramatic, Adara? Please, it's just the way of the world." She lifted herself and walked to Adara. She smoothed the younger girl's white blonde hair, "you're just like me when I came here." Gisella wrinkled her nose in distaste, "you're covered in these." She brushed a thumb across Adara's cheek referencing her freckles.

Adara pulled out of her grasp. "You were too, once." Annoyance rose in her at her sister's aversion to her.

Gisella's face hardened. "Well, not anymore. Being covered in spots isn't comely. Anyway, you can't stay here. You have to earn your keep."

Nothing was going as Adara envisioned. But she certainly didn't want to stay with her sister. Not this sister, whoever she was. And not in this place.

"Fine. Like I would want to stay in a place like this. You're lucky mother and father aren't here to see what you're become." Adara couldn't help the harshness in her words. No, she saw no reason to sugar them for her sister's benefit- or anyone for that matter.

Gisella stood. "I'm sorry this wasn't what you expected. But I didn't except you to come north. I could have saved you the trip, dear sister." Her green eyes burned with anger, nearly identical to Adara's own.

"Don't call me that. You're not my sister. I don't know who you are." Adara slammed the door behind her and ran from the brothel, ran past the slums until she was outside the gates of the Red Keep.

She didn't have a sister anymore. She hoped she still had a brother.


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

* * *

_Jon_

* * *

The Red Keep was not as large as Jon had imagined. In fact, it was smaller than Winterfell. Yet it was the home of the kings of the Seven Kingdoms and thus required a certain amount of deference. His trip to King's Landing was important business as a brother of the Night's Watch; as steward to Lord Commander Mormont Jon travelled the long distance south to beg King Robert for more men. And for the Lord Commander to stray so far from The Wall revealed how dire their need was for men up north.

But Jon himself didn't even realize how great the need was.

It had taken weeks to get to King's Landing and when they arrived earlier that day, Ser Mormont went straight to the king, waving off rest or food. Yoren had already been in the city recruiting and had promptly joined Ser Mormont's audience with the king.

Outside the room, Jon could only hear raised voices. He wished he too could have been privy to the conversation; he was eighteen now and had been a steward long enough to at least earn the approval of his commander. He slumped outside the room, and wiped perspiration that had formed on his brow.

"It's too damn hot down here." He muttered to himself.

The voices within quieted and the heavy oak door opened with a clatter. Yoren stepped out. He glanced a Jon though surprised to see him.

"All right then, come with me. Let's see what trash we can collect from the the dungeons today."

* * *

If Jon had wondered what sort of beginnings most men at the wall had, he no longer did. His curiosity had been quelled as soon as he had entered the dark, foul-smelling dungeon. It was true what they said though; many men would readily take a loss of limb or appendage to avoid the lifetime sentence of the wall.

They had left with only two men. Yoren hadn't been satisfied with those he found, the quantity rather than the quality, so he had plans to set out into the city to see if he could gather any willing recruits. Both men were walking out of the Keep, through the stable yards when Yoren stopped.

"Oy, any of you lads interested in doing something other than shovel horse crap?" Eyes from all over the stable yard flew to the pair. Jon was sure that trying to enlist men already employed by the king was not standard protocol.

"These men already work for the king." Jon said to Yoren. Nevertheless a few men stepped forward.

"Never mind that, the king won't give us men, we'll have to take them." He gestured the stablehands to forward.

"What do you say? Ever consider a life in the North? A life of honor and duty protecting the realm?"

A boy who looked no older than fourteen spoke up, "is it true you can't have a woman once you join?" Jon could tell he had the surliness of a typical brother.

Yoren barked out a laugh. "What do you know of women, boy? Shoo- I'm looking for dedicated men."

The boy unenthusiastically returned to his work and so had the other scruffy older boy that had approached. Only one remained.

"I have, sir. I've considered it, I'd join."

Jon sized him up; he looked a few years older than he. He was a near a foot taller than Jon and was powerfully built. He looked very common to Jon though- his face brown from the sun.

"What's your name?"

Before he could answer a yell echoed in the yard. "Piers!"

Jon turned with the others and saw a girl shrugging off a guard and dashing toward them.

She was panting hard, out of breath but didn't seem to notice anyone except for the man who said he wanted to join. She flung herself at him, and he caught her, wide-eyed.

"Piers, thank the gods I found you I ran straight here from Gisella. Oh! You don't even know why I'm here, do you? Father died, so I left Dorne and thought I could come here like you and my sister but I get here and realize nothing is as I thought. But, you don't know how happy I am to see you I—" she stopped, breathless again at her rambling.

"Addy," the man Jon now knew to be called Piers halted her. "You should have written to say you were coming- I don't intend to stay in King's Landing much longer." He signaled to Jon and Yoren. "I mean to go north to the wall. To join the Night's Watch."

The girl's face, once lit up with her excited speech, darkened instantly. "The Night's Watch?" She turned her untempered face to Yoren then Jon, as if blaming them for the development she clearly did not like.

"Isn't the Night's Watch nothing more than a band of thieves and rapists?" Her flashing green eyes fixed on Jon pointedly as though to suggest he was amongst that group.

Yoren let out let out another harsh laugh but Jon wasn't so even tempered.

"The Night's Watch defends the Seven Kingdoms from what lies beyond." He said through gritted teeth.

The girl seemed irked that he had even responded. "And what's that? What lies beyond? Wildings? What a threat they must be if you have to come so far south to garner soldiers, or whatever it is you call yourselves."

Indignation rose in Jon at this strange girl insulting the only thing he could identify himself with, the very thing he had given his life to.

"Adara, please." Piers pulled her aside. They spoke quickly, and Jon wondered if the girl was going to start to cry, she looked so upset. She stood to the side as Piers approached he and Yoren again.

"I'm sorry," he shook his head apologetically. "Excuse my friend, she doesn't know what she speaks of," the girl made a noise of displeasure but otherwise kept quiet. "I would join though, if I could."

Yoren nodded absentmindedly. "Midday tomorrow we go north. Snow," he signaled to Jon. "He'll show you where to go, give you instructions."

Yoren pulled Jon to the side. Jon watched the girl rush back to Piers. "Tell him to get rid of the girl." He nodded in agreement. Yoren left the yard.

Jon watched the pair, unsure if he should allow them a moment or just get the new recruit to where he needed to be. He made a movement forward then stopped when the girl cried out again.

"_No_." Jon watched her pull on his arm. "Piers. You _cannot_." Jon instead hung back.

It looked as though the man was chastising a child who was throwing a tantrum. But that's what Jon saw; a girl doing nothing more than throwing a tantrum. He noticed just how much they looked alike; their tanned skin and small features- maybe they were related.

The girl caught Jon watching her and scowled. Piers approached Jon. "I have to give my notice to the stable master before I leave- can I meet you, wherever, in quarter of an hour?"

Jon guessed he needed the time less for quitting and more to deal with the feisty girl. He felt bad enough for him, "meet me an hour, near the foot of the hill near Flea Bottom."

Piers nodded, thankful. Jon couldn't help but look at the girl. Her glare hadn't disappeared.

An hour had passed and Jon still waited near the edge of the neighborhood that had earned the name Flea Bottom. It wasn't hard to imagine why— squalid and overcrowded, the district was inhabited by only the very poorest of King's Landing's people. The area had a stench of pigsties and stables, tanner's sheds mixed in the smell of winesinks and whorehouses. Jon didn't venture far in. Unlike the winter town outside Winterfell, it seemed this city had more destitute than not.

As he watched the crowd moving past, his eye caught on a man, drawing a dagger on another who held his hands up in submission.

The armed man still pursued the other, despite protests from the other. Fearing an ill-matched brawl, Jon let up from his place, ready to act.

"Drop your weapon." Jon called as he came upon the scene. The man with the dagger turned to Jon with a queer look in his eyes; Jon could smell the alcohol on him. He immediately regretted getting involved.

Before Jon could react, the man sprung at Jon, in a senseless move that could only have been fueled by drink.

Jon was brought to the ground by the force of the man, he pushed him off; but a sharp pain exploded from his abdomen. He groped his stomach, searching for the source. His could feel his shirt wet. He brought his hand to his face- he could feel consciousness slipping away but not before he saw his hand red with his own blood.

_The bastard stabbed me!_

He lay on his back, looking up. His vision was fading but not before he saw a pair of faces above him. A distinct pair of green eyes met his before his vision faded black.


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

* * *

_Adara_

* * *

Jon Snow was favored by the gods.

That was all Adara could conclude after the afternoon's events. That, or it was truly serendipitous that she hadn't abandoned her cause to stop Piers from going North. And she almost had, but instead stubbornly refused to give up. Yet she couldn't shake the thought; had she not followed Piers would the man uneasily dozing before her be alive? Probably not.

She had been playing the scene back in her head for the past hour. The stabbing and the moments after: her immediate instinct to get to work, to fix what had been broken. More than what her father had taught her for years— healing— it wasn't what she did. It was what she was.

Healing had a nefarious connotation within most of the Seven Kingdoms, save Dorne. It suggested magic or worse, for a woman, insinuated some dark witchcraft. Maesters were the "healers." Their education eradicated any chance of the supernatural, they had books, logic, reason to back them up.

But whatever arts Adara possessed were neither magical nor witchery. It was simply skills passed down, skills perfected long before her homeland had been conquered.

Adara could feel her eyes growing tired, but tried to stay alert in case of any developments. Though the bleeding had stopped, the risk for infection was still high. She kept a steady watch for any signs of fever.

The upstairs room they occupied was the house of the man who had almost had the knife in his gut, had it not been for the intervention. So great was his gratitude, he had allowed she and Piers to bring in the man that had saved his life and gave Adara whatever she asked for as she set to task. Even his wife had been grateful, offering her food and drink and setting up a makeshift pallet.

It was just her now, in the upstairs room with this Jon Snow. He hadn't stirred in a couple hours which Adara was thankful for; he had been the most fastidious patient, obvious in his distrust of her capabilities. She wasn't one intimidated easily but under his stern stare, she was especially conscious of herself. All the while her patience growing very thin with him.

She couldn't help her dislike of him. Adara took exception to most people, it was just her nature. She wasn't heartless but she certainly didn't inspire any love from those who didn't know her. It wasn't anything she didn't know herself; her healing hands were often the only kind thing about her.

She walked over to the where he slept and gently felt his head, thankful no fever seemed to be present. She paused, studying him. His face was pallid no doubt from the strain of his injury. The contrast of his wan coloring was only exaggerated by the dark waves of his hair. His dark brows were drawn together as though his dreams troubled him. Adara unintentionally let her eyes wander to his bare chest, unclothed due to the deep laceration, a bandaged wrapped around his middle. She had unconsciously admired him earlier, now she allowed herself a lingering gaze; only annoyed that they were predisposed to mutual disdain.

"Adara, why don't you lay down awhile? I know it's been a long day for you." Piers entered the room. Adara snapped her eyes away from Jon as quickly as possible, embarrassed that Piers may have seen her.

She started to protest.

"I'll keep an eye on him, but you really need to rest." She couldn't argue, she didn't have the energy. In truth, it had been a long day: from arriving in King's Landing to seeing her sister, and learning the truth, to now this, sleep would come easily to her.

"All right," she murmured, lowering herself to the mat and cushion that had been set for her. "But I still have to talk to you, about leaving," she closed her her eyes for a moment, and tried to fight the invading sleep so she could persist in her argument, but she finally relented, letting sleep come.

* * *

It was almost light when Adara awoke. A faint glow from the foggy-glassed window was starting to illuminate the timbered room. She lay still, acclimating herself to the new day. Adara heard the door shut as though someone had just left. Hushed voices outside the door followed. She crept to the door about to open it until she recognized the voices on the other side.

"I have my ways of finding out things." It was Gisella, the sharpness in her tone struck Adara, even without seeing her.

"I'm sure you do, though it's suspect that now you show an interest in her, after she came all the way here. You should have told her not to come. She's not meant for a place like this." Adara's interest was piqued when she heard Piers talking about her.

But Adara's heart could have broken at the way they spoke to each other now. So coldly. Like strangers. She didn't doubt her sister's earlier words that they hadn't seen each other in months.

"Yes, well, it's too late for that now. She's in King's Landing."

"What do you plan to do?"

Gisella sighed loudly. "I can't do anything for her. She cannot stay with me… I won't let her. Not at Chataya's."

Both were quiet for moment. "I'm going to The Wall, Gisella. I'm joining the Night's Watch."

Adara waited for her sister to say something, to plead with him not to go, as she had. Adara knew what a life in the bleak North meant— she wouldn't wish such a terrible thing on anybody. Gisella didn't beg to stay as she had hoped. Adara cursed her cruel sister.

"Well, it's a better option than staying in the city. She'll leave the city with you."

Piers tried to cut in but Gisella kept on. "And she's bound to find something, she's knows everything about healing and if it's true, like you say, she saved a man's life then that should certainly recommend her."

Adara wasn't hurt that her sister would so easily try to pawn her off. She wasn't even very surprised.

"She should go back to Dorne, where she belongs."

"She won't, trust me. I begged her to." Piers sighed. "I don't have any faith that she'll be allowed to travel north with me."

She said something to Piers that Adara couldn't hear.

"Gisella, I can't,"

"If you ever loved me you'd do this, you'd help her." That was enough for Adara. She didn't want to hear anymore of their conversation, the uncertainty of what lay ahead for her felt more than she could bear. She started to creep back to her mat but was startled by the outline of movement in the bed, not able to fully see.

But Jon saw her.

"I made it through the night." She assumed the snide remark was more a comment on her abilities than it was an actual observation.

"You did. How fortunate." She smiled spitefully. She had saved his life; it wasn't likely anyone in the vicinity of Flea Bottom would have had as deft hands as she. But she didn't want to let her anger show as that seemed to be his goal.

They were silent for a minute, sizing each other up. Each casting the other as their respective antagonist.

Adara crossed her arms and hit first. "It's polite to thank someone after they tend to you for hours thus ensuring you _do_ make it through the night."

"You don't seem the sort of person to advise anyone on what's polite."

She took a quick step toward him, incensed. "What's that supposed to mean?" Her hands were fists at her side.

He leaned forward. "You insult an entire military order, throw a fit when you don't get your way, and, it seems, are an eavesdropper."

Adara almost sputtered she was so riled. She didn't like being called out. Or challenged. She wasn't used to it.

Jon moved to sit up but groaned painfully. She was at his side in an instant, helping him lean back. She began to check his bandage that was tied around his abdomen. This time she didn't allow her eyes to linger. But his eyes caught hers but she looked away, focusing on the self-made tourniquet. She furrowed her brow, annoyed with herself but more so him.

"You shouldn't be exerting yourself." She said after she was satisfied that all looked well.

"Very sound advice coming from the cause of my exertion," he murmured.

Adara looked at him through narrowed eyes. She wondered if it was unethical to slap someone who been stabbed hours before. It wasn't a dilemma she'd faced before.

Instead, she gave him feigned saccharine smile. She'd wait till he was at least walking to whack him.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you to my lovely reviewers! Hope you like the newest installment. Feedback is always appreciated :)


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

* * *

_Adara_

* * *

Adara didn't like that she wasn't allowed to say anything. Or that she was told to distance herself from the conversation she wasn't too take part in. But what really irked her was that she had to let her fate fall into the hands of Jon Snow.

She may have saved his life but she had little faith he would do the same for her.

He was on his feet again, only a day and a half after the incident. And though she had urged him to rest he was insistent that he was well enough. She hated to see her medical counsel ignored but wasn't surprised in his case. He was impatient to go back North with his men.

She kept her promise though, and didn't interrupt the dealings going on with the men only a few yards from her. The three men talked, their eyes occasionally falling on her, in the middle of the hustle and bustle near one of the city gates. She only recognized two of them, Jon and the man that had been with when she found Piers at the stable.

She looked to Piers beside her, loading up a cart with two other men. She couldn't hide her apprehension. "What if can go with you, then what?"

"I'm not sure, Addy. But you have a valuable gift, there's bound to be a place for you. We'll find you something on the way north." He stopped and gave her a kind smile which easily elicited one from her. She was so thankful to have Piers to help her where her own sister had disappointed her. He was much more diplomatic than she, people naturally seem to like him which was evident when he had cajoled Jon Snow to at least recommend her to his commanding officer; to tell him of her deeds in relation to his current well-being.

She wrung her hands, sure a disparaging remark or two would be thrown in courtesy of Jon. The group broke, with the silver-bearded man, tallest amongst the three, approaching her. She could tell he must have been the highest ranking by they way he held himself alone.

"You're the young woman responsible for saving Snow's life?" It wasn't really a question but his stern voice held no meanness.

Adara nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes, my lord."

He cleared his throat. "Very well. I don't suppose there's any harm in having someone with your kind of capabilities in our party. If you're going North there's no need to have a young girl travel alone."

"Thank you, ser." She allowed herself a self-satisfied smile. She had resigned herself to being all but alone in this foul city; when she had asked Piers what would happen if she was allowed to travel with him it was purely conjecture. She wouldn't admit it was a hopeful question. She didn't see herself as a particularly optimistic person. Her worldview was heavily held down by reality, not delusion.

Adara looked over to Piers, the smile still on her face.

He leaned down to her, his face serious. "Adara, Ser Mormont didn't think to say anything of it but please remember who you're traveling with." He nodded to two men in the barred cart, an effective traveling jail cell. "They aren't all good men."

She rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself, thank you."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "And try to keep your attitude it check," he looked at her pointedly, she knew well enough what he meant but nevertheless rolled her eyes again. "It's lucky that you've been given as much leeway as you have. Don't push it."

The first days on the road were exhausting. Adara was on her feet, walking, most of the time and though the pace wasn't grueling Adara had to push herself to keep up. She was eager to contribute to any chores to prove she wasn't dead weight. She managed to keep her head down and was deferential, uncharacteristic for her but she was all too aware she needed them and not the other way around.

Unfortunately, part of her duties was to check on Jon and apply a fresh bandage daily.

Adara had followed Piers' words and had kept out of trouble and kept to herself for the most part. The only time she felt her self-restraint being tested was when she had to deal with Jon, or Snow, as they were certainly not friendly enough to call each other by their given names.

Adara didn't feel his animosity towards her was particularly warranted; sure, she hadn't been exactly civil to him that day in the stable yard but for the most part, she didn't acknowledge him or have much to do with him, she was largely Piers' shadow. Nevertheless, he held on to his initiation hostility towards her. She merely shrugged it off and bit her tongue often. But she knew she could only hold it in for so long. She may have even considered apologizing to him if only to make it easier on herself but his repeated attempts to deride her, such as her serial failed attempts at fire building, only encouraged her to return the feelings of contempt.

Still, a thank you would have been nice.

"Don't join the Night's Watch. I hate it here, let's just leave here and go back south." Adara prodded Piers but knew it was unrealistic and that he had his mind set to join but she wasn't sure what her future would be. Besides, she had just waited on her disagreeable patient which always put her in a sour mood. "Don't you miss Dorne?"

She fell into step with Piers. "You know that's not going to happen." He looked at her, concerned. "What's wrong?"

She didn't realize she was still frowning. "Ugh, nothing. Just, nothing."

"If it—"

Adara interrupted him, "I don't know what I'm going to do! I think it more likely I'll be a kitchen wench somewhere than actually be able to do what I should." It was a thought that had been plaguing her for the last couple days now. The last town they had gone through hadn't had need of someone with her skills, of course, but she was told the inn needed a chambermaid. She hadn't been able to hold in her anger at that suggestion.

The offer had offended Adara and demoralized her. And the further north they went, however little it may be everyday, disconcerted her. She missed the hot, bright landscape of her home. The cold bleakness of the north made her uneasy.

She looked at Piers and could see how his golden intensity had faded since he had left the south; both in his spirit and his appearance. Like her sister, his skin wasn't ask tanned as hers still was and his hair was no longer bleached by the sun but was now dulled to a light brown. Adara knew if she kept north she really would be a copy of her sister— pasty pale skin, faded freckles. It wasn't her appearance that bothered her but what the change meant; that it was an internal change as well. That leaving Dorne, leaving home, had irrevocably changed them.

Adara had set herself up where she usually did; far enough away from the wagon of miscreant criminals who were often saying lewd things to her, but close enough to the main circle where the rest of everyone retired. Tonight, unlike most nights, the ten or so men that were traveling north still circled the fire, the hour late, drinking and making merry.

Adara wanted no part in it though bet she could drink any man under the table if Dornish wine was the chosen spirit. She was well enough versed in the uses of wine, medical and otherwise.

Instead, Adara lay staring up at the hazy sky, stars hidden behind heavy clouds. She tossed and turned, sleep escaping her as all she heard was the laughing and loud voices of the men. She sat up stared in the general direction the noise came from. She didn't think to go over to the group and instead walked over to the open-backed supply wagon and hopped onto it, sitting with her legs dangling off. From here she could see and hear them better but was far enough not to be detected.

She flicked a spider she felt crawling up her arm away and, looking up, nearly jumped out of her skin. Snow stood before her.

She mentally added sneaking up on her in the dark to the list of qualities she rather disliked.

"I already checked your bandage today." She muttered, looking past him. His injury was the only obligation she had to him.

He wordless hopped up next to her on the cart. He still said nothing as they sat in silence.

Adara side-eyed him, unsure what he was doing. She wondered if he only did this to further antagonize her. Not wanting to rise to the occasion, she leapt down from her seat, preferring her own company to his silence.

His voice stopped her. "You never apologized for what you said about the Night's Watch."

She turned and met his eyes. She noticed they were gray and that they held no humor nor no ill will. But what struck her more was that he was whinging like a child, at least to her ears. Now that she knew that that had been the root of his issue with her, it seemed petty to hang onto her words still.

All the same, she wasn't going to let him name her as the villain when it was he that had made a point to demean her thus far on their journey.

"And you never thanked me for saving your life."

He too hopped down from the cart. "You really take pleasure in that, don't you? You like that I owe you something."

Adara crossed her arms, defensively. "I do _not_. You're the one who refuses to acknowledge that I did something for you without asking anything in return."

He scoffed. "You expect to be congratulated when you do what anyone else would readily do and worse, want to be praised when you don't even do it right- like light a fire or burn the haul the men had hunted that was supposed to feed us all yesterday."

Adara cringed at that. He was right, she had volunteered to prepare the game that had been brought back last night and had entirely ruined it; charring everything black, mostly inedible.

Had it not been him calling her out, she could have conceded her own shortcomings. But instead, she turned her embarrassed anger on him.

"I get that you're on the lower rungs of the Night's Watch and you need someone else to kick around to make yourself feel important, but it's not going to be me."

He rolled his eyes at that. "That's hardly the case. I wouldn't pick on a girl to make myself feel better."

That only incensed Adara even more, "of course you wouldn't because a girl couldn't possibly hold her own against such a great man like yourself." She took a breath, realizing any restraint she had shown so far controlling her temper was gone now. "What did you do to get on your _precious_ Night's Watch? Thievery? Murder? What?"

He took a step closer, the anger in his eyes matching the anger she felt rising. "What are you doing here? If we're all loathsome criminals, why would you have us to travel with? Because you have no one else?"

Her earlier intention may have been to slap him but instead she shoved him, both hands pushing hard on his shoulders. He was quicker than she though, and held her arms, stopping her.

She was beyond angry now, and could feel her heart racing and a lump growing in her throat. _Please don't cry. Please, please don't cry_, she thought to herself. Adara bit her lip hard enough she tasted blood, but it didn't help the hot tears that she couldn't hold back.

Everything came pouring out. She hadn't cried when her father had died, alone with her, over a month ago. And she hadn't cried on her awful and difficult journey to King's Landing. She had kept her composure when she found Gisella— her sister, now a whore— and didn't allow herself to grieve when she had turned her back on her. But now she did. She hated herself in that moment which only made the silent tears intensify. She hated that she had let anyone see her so weak, especially Snow.

From what she could see in her tear-filled eyes, he was utterly shocked by her reaction. He still gripped her arms as he started to apologize. Adara pulled away, wanting none of his sympathy. Or worse, his pity.

He didn't let go immediately, "I didn't mean to upset you, I'm sorry."

She yanked her arms away again, freeing herself. "You didn't upset me, this isn't about you, Snow. As if _you_ could ever make me cry."

* * *

**A/N: **My intention was to switch every other chapter from Adara to Jon but I realize that may not always help move the story the way I want it to... we'll see how this goes.  
Complaints, concerns, criticisms, whatever— are all welcome!


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

* * *

"Ouch—"

"Sorry." Adara slackened her grip on the linen bandage and finished tying it in a neat knot. She looked at her handiwork, satisfied.

"There. Finished." She didn't make eye contact with Snow.

"Thank you."

She gritted her teeth. If it was possible, she hated being in Snow's presence more now than before. She was still utterly mortified at her pathetic outburst three nights before. And worse, since then, he tried to be nice to her. Adara much preferred their shared dislike of each other to this. He relented on his usual digs at her, so she had no other choice but to hate him even more. She wouldn't have his pity.

She didn't look at him when she moved to leave.

"Wait,"

"What?" She snapped. She kept walking but he followed her.

"Well, thanks for, you know, doing this everyday." He now had made a habit of going out of his way to thank her every time she changed the binding. And when she finally built a fire the night before he had commended her. Even Piers had noticed Snow's new practice of affirmation.

"Uh huh," she put the few supplies she had in the cart.

Up ahead Ser Mormont called for the party to keep moving. They would be at the next town by nightfall.

Adara walked on, with Snow at her heels. She turned to him, ready to say her peace and be finished with his disingenuous pleasantries.

"Stop it, all right? I don't want your sympathy or pity or whatever. Just because you," she lowered her voice. "You saw me cry, that's it. It doesn't give you a reason try to be my friend— or whatever it is you're doing. So stop it."

He started to laugh, at her. "Are you really telling me to not be nice to you?"

Adara could hear how ridiculous it sounded. "Well, I don't need someone to befriend me because they feel sorry for me."

"I don't feel sorry for you, if it's any consolation." He shrugged and started to out pace Adara, he threw her a look over his shoulder, awaiting a response.

"Fine." She muttered, not entirely sure what she was agreeing to.

The next few hours on the road dragged but Adara at least had Piers to distract her. The years apart hadn't gotten in the way- they easily fell back into their brother/sister dynamic that they had had when they were growing up together. The only missing piece was Gisella. But the sting of her spurn was still too fresh for Adara. She didn't utter her older sister's name. Nor did Piers. Her curiosity of what happened between the two very nearly trounced her hurt but not quite. Soon, she thought. Soon she'd be able to talk to Pier about their time in King's Landing and how things had seemed to fall apart.

Ser Mormont was right in his estimation; just as the sun was disappearing they happened upon a town, only a small stretch bigger than the last village. Adara followed Piers who helped two of the other men stable the horses. The rest of the men went to the inn.

"What- are we staying at the inn tonight?" Adara certainly liked the idea of sleeping on a bed, the hard earth had been her mattress for far too long.

Piers shook his head as he unsaddled the Lord Commander's horse. "Not us. Ser Mormont said his old bones could use a rest though."

Adara didn't blame him; even she was worn-out from the expedition and he was many years his senior. He did have a horse though, she though bitterly. She looked down at her dirty and worn leather shoes. She'd be lucky if they lasted her much longer.

"You two coming?" One of the men asked Piers and Adara, signaling to the tavern inn.

Piers nodded. "C'mon, Addy." He put his arm around her shoulder, giving her no choice but to join everyone inside.

* * *

Adara had surveyed the crowd inside the tavern. In the past two hours she had come to the following conclusions: first, she was the only woman there that wasn't a wench except perhaps the pretty barmaid, but even she seemed to be open to the advances of a particularly drunken patron. And second, no one could hold their drink very well. That or they didn't realize how sotted they were.

Though the drink before her was not the Dornish wine she was used to, this being a watered-down knock off, she could keep up with her companions easily and not show give herself away as they did. She was relaxed and though not yet feeling the smooth, light-headed feeling that came with drink, she wasn't concerned about the pressing issues that had troubled her since leaving King's Landing. Namely, what she was going to do and where she was going. She had realized it was only a matter of time until she couldn't travel north— and she felt she didn't belong in the bleak land north of the Riverlands— she only had a matter of weeks before she had to make a decision. Now though she ignored those pestering thoughts and looked to the three other people at the table with her.

Besides Adara, Piers had been friendly with two other men in their party; Frede and Lee. And though her immediate impression told her that Frede was a sniveling brown-noser, and that Lee was mentally deficient, for Piers' sake she kept her thoughts to herself. And it wasn't as though one could afford to be choosy when it came to friends on the road.

Even so, Adara would choose her own company over poor company any day.

A phony smile on her face, she nodded as Lee related an inane story she hadn't had the patience to pay attention to. She laughed with the others and realizing how stupid this charade was made her laugh even more. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle herself as she dissolved into giggles. She wondered if perhaps the wine had effected her more than she originally thought.

"I'm sorry," she said as she calmed herself, the three others smiling at her unexpected outburst.

Whether it was her laughing that had caught his attention or something else Adara didn't know, but when Snow took a seat at their table across from Adara her laughter immediately dissipated. Already worried she had had her fill of drink, she took this as her cue to leave.

"Excuse me." She said, getting up. Upon standing she felt her feet unsteady beneath her. She hid it by taking quick sure steps to the door and hoped the cool wind outside would clear her cloudy head. She took a deep breath letting the chilled air fill her lungs. She breathed out, seeing the whips of her own breath before her from the cold.

The inn's door shut to her left. She glanced to the black clad figure with equally dark hair. She rolled her eyes. Snow.

"_Ugh, take a hint._" She muttered to herself as he approached her.

"What?"

"Nothing." She snapped. "What is it?"

He crossed his arms as he stood across from her. "Look, I feel bad about—"

"Don't. I don't need you to feel bad. I don't want you to."

He held his hands up, yielding. "All right, I get it. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing!" Adara put a hand to her head, annoyed and dizzy.

Snow sighed loudly. "Fine- I'm trying to be nice, friendly. You don't have to be so difficult."

"I'll manage without your friendship, thanks." She jeered. She pushed herself away from the timbered outside wall of the inn she leaned against so she was only a step away from him. The image of his athletic bare chest, that she had unwittingly appreciated daily since the incident in King's Landing, came to mind and wouldn't leave. She cursed herself for presuming to drink as much as she did. That could be the only reason such a thought would come to mind.

She was staring at him but she wasn't picking up on it, now feeling her senses dulled.

"What?" He said, smirking.

"Nothing. I- nothing!" She took a step away, very conscious of him now. And becoming conscious of how her mind was not in control of her body. She looked away from him paranoid that he'd see what she had no control over; some sort of unreasonable attraction that was made all the more clear after a few cups of wine.

His smirk seemed to widen at her retreat. He took a step closer, amused. "What, are you scared of me?"

She let out a hallow laugh that sounded put on even to her. "No. Of course not." Her stubbornness held her to the spot but she kept her eyes trained to something to her left. She knew she should just walk away. The combination of the wine and their equally obstinate nature was dangerous.

He took a step closer, testing her. They were so close now Adara could lean in and would have been able to touch him, feel the dark heavy wool of his shirt.

She found her nerve again and met his eye. "What?" She was daring him.

It could have been an instant or a long moment but they stared each other down, bidding the other to react.

And they almost did. And if they had Adara wouldn't have know who to blame. It was like she could feel him as drawn in as she was.

But the tavern door swung open. Most of the men heading north came pouring out, all heedless, having had their fill.

The sudden commotion woke Adara from the strange, potent moment with Snow. They stood next to each other, a few paces away from the ruckus. Neither acknowledged what had almost transpired.

Frede spotted them first, and called them over, starting to relate what happened inside and how Lee had almost provoked a fight.

Adara glanced to her left at Snow. He must have felt her eyes on him; he looked to her too but she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Uneasy, she looked away and found Piers. He was looking at them.

She shuffled over to him, smiling. "Sounds like Lee will do just fine at The Wall," she tried to distract Piers from the odd look he had on his face, now directed at Snow.

He looked at her, concerned. "Careful, Addy."

* * *

**A/N:** Yeah so I decided this is just going to be from Adara's perspective from now on.. Let me know what you think.


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Adara's head ached something awful the next day. A dawn departure didn't help matters much either. She could at least take solace in the fact most of the rest of the group was sluggish as well. Yoren had been barking orders at the new recruits all morning causing Adara to wince at both the sound of his booming voice. And despite her knowledge of alleviating ailments and many common pains, Adara's father had never imparted a remedy for a night of too much drink. Though she hadn't really thought to ask, she now wondered if it were because such a thing did not exist or if the misery was a well-deserve punishment. Her head pounding, she assumed the latter.

Piers busy saddling the horses, Adara took a sat back and watched the commotion around her; not at all desiring to get involved. She noticed that Lord Mormont had not appeared yet. She heard Frede give voice to the question she too had. Betraying his own ill-will, Yoren brusquely told the him to mind his own affairs. She laughed out loud at that, catching Snow's eye. She begrudgingly shared a private laugh at Frede's incessant brown-nosing.

Frede's annoying habit had started early. He had first tried to make himself known to Lord Mormont, whom of course couldn't be troubled by such a lesser being- especially by someone so pathetic, Adara though to herself. But Frede had quickly moved on to Yoren, licking his boots and all. Yoren was much less kind to the boy but it didn't stop him from his obsequious behavior. Adara wondered when Yoren would just knock him to make him shut up. She had been watching the situation unfolding, and it did provide some comic relief for her, she didn't like the thought of sharing anything with Snow.

Thinking of Lord Mormont's absence, it struck her as odd that the old man wasn't ready to go as he himself was usually the one early risen and ready to go every morning. She thought it must be a difficult feat for him, making the journey all the way south King's Landing and back north to The Wall so quickly, but he hid his age well. Adara wondered if he might be ill. If he were, Adara mused, she could certainly try to help which could help _her_ in the future. And, she thought, he had allowed her to travel in his party which she now understood to be a rarity. Maybe he had thought she'd be an asset; she'd saved on of his men.

She reluctantly got up, deciding to prove her worth. Adara approached Yoren. She hadn't had much to do with him or even really spoken to him but from seeing him with the other men she knew she had to be as direct and blunt as he. She approached him as he whet a small, broad knife.

"Is Lord Mormont unwell?" She asked Yoren, arms akimbo.

He looked at her suspiciously. The look he gave and the knife in his hands made her involuntarily bite her lip. He wasn't very forthcoming with an answer.

"If he is, I can help, you know."

He slid the knife back into its scabbard. "The Lord Commander is well enough, girl. His pains are that of age."

"I can help. It's easy enough; aching bones, sore muscles, my father suffered the same affliction." She realized the ingredients for remedy she had made dozens of times were probably not accessible to her now.

"Do you have your concoction on hand now?" He obviously knew she didn't. Adara worried she was losing him.

"No, but," she looked around herself. Surrounded by nature, she was sure to find something; almost all of the components she ever used were organic, found outside. She remembered she had seen dandelions near the stables. Though the weed wasn't as abundant in the desert to the south, she knew it was a remedy often used for pain and to expel toxins.

"If you give me a minute, I can get something, it'll help him." Adara hurried over to the stables, not far from where she was, and grabbed handfuls of the plant, making sure to get as much of the leaves as she could.

Satisfied with what she had, she want back again to Yoren. Her gave her a dubious look.

"You plan to give that to Lord Mormont?"

Adara looked at what she held. The sprigly weeds did look less that impressive. It didn't help that she was unsure of how to administer it. She pushed her doubts aside. Hesitation wouldn't get her anywhere.

"Yes. I'm surprised you're not familiar with dandelion leaves as a treatment for pain." She hoped her assertiveness didn't betray her uncertainty.

He nodded, "come on then." Yoren led her back to the inn. Adara's mind raced as she thought of what she could do with the leaves she held. She was sure of their usefulness. That was all. Give her devil's claw or even boswellia and she'd have the job done in a snap.

Yoren bid her to wait in the corridor as he entered Lord Mormont's room. By the time she was signaled to enter she had decided against infusing the leaves. He'd just have to eat them as they were.

Lord Mormont sat in an straight-backed wooden chair. She could immediately see the pain he was in though he kept a stoic face. He looked ashen and his eyes were rung with dark bags making him look older, more frail.

She stepped forward and stubbornly refused to allow herself to admit to the doubt that was bubbling in her stomach.

"It's my legs, and my hands." His voice seemed stretch thin. Adara wondered how long he had been in this much pain. It wasn't something one woke up to, usually it was a gradual build up. At least, that's what she has seen before with the people in the villages she had administered to with her father. She was at least relieved to see his hands did not have the twisted look of far-gone arthritic limbs.

"Is it stiffness? Burning? Aching or shooting pain?" She already knew what ailed him but wanted to rule out gout as a possibility.

He nodded at it all.

She took a deep breath. "I have dandelion leaves here, they should help at least ease the pain. It's not very powerful stuff but it can only help." She brought the pulled up plants to the table and started to separate the leaves from the stems, making a neat pile. She took the jug of water before her and lightly doused the leaves, taking off any dirt that remained. She brought it to him.

"It's not my first choice but it's all that was around. You should eat them, for full potency. And continue eating them daily. I can find more if you find that they help."

He took what she offered. Adara glanced to Yoren who stood in the background. She thought she could see a hint of a smile on his face. Or at the very least, it wasn't a scowl.

"Thank you."

Adara bowed her head graciously. Perhaps he had mostly forgotten her presence the past couple weeks but now the question that most bothered her came to his mind too.

"What is your plan going north? Do you have family or a placement?"

Adara hesitated, unsure how forthcoming she should be. "No, my lord. Piers, one of the men joining The Watch is," she paused, "he's my brother. I've no other family. I go north to find work, if I can."

"Very well. I don't know many households that make habit of employing a girl as a healer but we'll see what we can find for you."

"Thank you, my lord." Adara followed Yoren out of the room.

She walked the length of the corridor only pausing when she heard Yoren's voice behind her, "keep it up and you'll be too useful to get rid of."

* * *

The morning sun had risen to it's full height as the group continued north that day and now it was settling to dusk. It hadn't been a full twelve hour day of traveling but Adara didn't mind. The faster the pace the more quickly they approached the North and The Wall.

But her spirits were lifted when she had seen Lord Mormont mount his horse without struggle later that morning. She hoped his pain was at least somewhat lessened.

Yet, for the better part of the day, Yoren's words had frequently come to mind. True, she had no place at the moment, and also true she wanted to be productive and useful where she could, but she did not intend to be permanent part of this group. Of course, what Yoren said was only in jest, she reasoned. And she wasn't at all bothered by the thought of leaving and finding her only place except that she'd miss Piers.

She shook her head of any of those thoughts, sitting with Piers and Lee, all three resting at camp for the night.

"Where are we?" She asked. Her knowledge of Westeros was limited and once north of the Dornish Marches, altogether absent.

"Just south of Harrenhal." Piers said.

Though the name was vaguely familiar to Adara, being south of it meant nothing to her as she didn't even know where it was. She nodded to mask her ignorance.

"The lands around Harrenhal are cursed, you know." Lee said solemnly.

Adara rolled her eyes. Piers caught her look and grinned.

"Oh? And why is that?" Lee didn't detect the derision in Piers' question.

"Harrenhal was the biggest castle in Westeros but the day Harren the Black finished building it the Targenyens invaded. The Targenyen dragons destroyed it. The king was burned alive in his own castle." Lee gave them both a meaningful look. "Tell me that isn't bad luck."

A moment passed then he furrowed his brow at them. "I can't believe you've never heard of the curse of Harrenhal."

Adara shrugged. "We're from Dorne. And less superstitious bunch I guess."

"It's not superstition, no man has been able to hold the castle since Harren. Besides, I know Dornishmen are just as superstitious as anyone. With the Greenbloods and all—"

"Which we are not." Adara snapped, annoyed. She did not like the common practice of grouping all Dornishmen as Rhoynar. She didn't look Rhoynar and didn't act it, except for her temper which was said to be common amongst all far southerns. Piers gave her a warning look to check her temper but quickly dropped it. She had noticed he was slowly beginning to stop his fraternal habits of nagging her to have a better attitude or be a generally kinder person. It was nice not to be constantly reprimanded— and to be treated like an adult— but the reason behind the change evaded her.

"What are you two anyway?" Lee asked them pointedly.

Frede, standing nearby piped up. "I always reckoned you two were brother and sister."

Adara didn't hesitate. "We are."

Both Lee and Frede nodded. "You both _kind of_ look alike."

Adara looked to Piers to verify the lie. It didn't seem much of a leap to her; they were like brother and sister. He played the part of the older brother by looking out for her and she easily fell into the role of the hapless younger sister. But Piers didn't seem to want to go along with this fib. He looked away and didn't back her up.

She was about to quietly ask him what his problem was but Yoren called him and Lee. Both got up, following orders which sent Frede almost in a frenzy to also be part of whatever was going on. He made the mistake of calling Yoren "lord" which nearly got him thumped.

Adara covered her grin with her hand his ridiculousness. And for the second time that day Snow caught her laughing. She dropped her hand and her grin, not noticing he had been standing only a few feet away.

"Personally, I'm waiting for Yoren to ban him from joining The Watch, which may be the first time he's ever done that."

Adara shook her head. "No, Frede will see he's not getting whatever respect he thinks is owed to him and move on his next target."

Snow nodded. "You might be right. Who's his next victim then?"

Adara couldn't help but grin. "You."

Snow smiled despite himself. "Ah, of course you'd say me."

"Well it just seems that he's working his way down from the highest ranking man. You're next."

He sighed, still looking at her.

"You can make it work for you though," she didn't know why she was being amiable to him but, strangely, it felt a lot easier than being rude.

"How so?" Snow questioned.

"He'll do, basically, anything for whomever he's stalking. He wants to do someone's bidding."

"I don't have much bidding," he shrugged. "I'm just a steward."

"I don't think that's the point. He thinks if he helps you now, you'll help him once he get to The Wall. He'd just about chew your food if he thought it'd help." Adara understood why he was so willing to be a minion; he was small and didn't seem to have an particular skills that would be useful once north, at least in her eyes.

"Seems kind of cruel, doesn't it? To take advantage of him like that, he's kind of pathetic."

And maybe that's what truly separated the two of them; such a thought never crossed her mind- would never cross her mind. To her wasn't cruel if he was willingly allowing himself to be made a fool of. Adara didn't suffer fools and had little patience for anything, particularly halfwits like the majority of north-bound party.

She shrugged at his words, realizing herself how different they were.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

It happened in an instant. Adara never saw or heard it coming. But the men near the back of the train must have, their yells were one of the last thing she heard. It had caused them all to come to a jostled stop. Then, it was like a swarm from the periphery. At least twenty men were upon them in an instant, seemingly appearing from nowhere. From the trees, perhaps.

Adara didn't even have a chance to react. Turning her head toward the source of an angry bellow, something swung at her. If a cry escaped her it was merely reflex. She wasn't conscious long enough to feel the pain of the strike.

Everything went black.

* * *

With the mountains of the Vale to their right, the party had been traveling for nearly a month now. But the skirmish hadn't halted their progress. Adara had just learned firsthand that mountain clans of the Vale had no qualms attacking traveling groups, even those armed.

Her eyes opened, she blinked, the tree branches above her coming into focus and above the bright blue sky. But the branches were moving. Adara realized she was too. She panicked for a moment, confused where she was, what had happened.

Adara tried to sit up which made her aware of the throbbing in her head. She yelped at the pain as she sat up. Looking around, she saw she was in the cart that carried their supplies. She was alone in it, only surrounded by two trunks, a barrel, and miscellaneous sacks near her feel. Adara looked above the wall of the cart and to her left saw Snow on his horse, a few feet behind.

Adara pulled herself up to kneel and was nearly overcome with her own unsteadiness. She cautiously put a hand to her head to feel the bump that was sure to have formed from the blow. She couldn't hold in the cry as her fingers grazed the swelling just behind her ear. Just the light touch was excruciating.

"You all right?"

Adara looked at Snow, now riding at pace beside her, from the cart.

"What happened? Did someone hit me or—" Her voice sounded odd to her ears. She sat back on her folded legs, and tried to maintain her equilibrium.

"You were, it was a mountain clan that attacked. Big, hulking one hit you, he probably intended to drag you off and make you his wife." He dropped his teasing smile at her glare. "Anyway, they saw we were armed an attacked."

Adara brought her hand to her forehead, the throbbing wasn't subsiding. "Wouldn't they not attack if they saw we were armed?"

"Most clans just have crude weapons. They saw we had swords and armor and they out numbered us so they attacked," He paused and looked at her, an anxious look crossing his features for an instant. "But you took a pretty bad hit, are you all right?"

"I'm fine." She said without thought. She felt a wave of nausea rise and feared she suffered a concision. But a more troubling thought occurred to her. "Is everyone all right? Did anyone get hurt or," she stopped short.

He shook his head. "Everyone of ours is fine. A few clansmen were offed," he looked ahead and behind. Adara followed his gaze. Snow looked back to her.

"Are you sure you're fine? You don't look well."

"Yes. I'm sure. Just a bit uneven." She said the latter more to herself.

"If you're sure…"

She blatantly rolled her eyes at him and sat back in the cart effectively ending their conversation.

"Wait," she stuck her head over the side of the cart before Snow rode on. "If you see Piers—"

"I'll tell him you've come around." He finished and continued on, outpacing the cart.

Adara leaned back against the side of the cart. The jostling of the cart had an odd calming effect on her, she closed her eyes for a moment but shook herself awake, mindful that she shouldn't sleep with a possible concussion. But the mere face that she couldn't sleep tempted her all the more. She didn't trust herself to stay conscious so she maneuvered her way to the edge of the cart. She stuck her legs over the edge first then hopped down. The unmoving ground beneath her feet at least helped her steady some.

Adara managed to keep up with the cart for a time but before she noticed, she was walking alongside the convicts in the cart. She wouldn't have noticed had it not been for the angry groan coming from one of them. She peered in as she walked. One of the men had what looked to be a makeshift arrow in his left arm. His loss of blood immediately alarmed Adara which was evident by both his blood stained sleeve and the pained look on his face. Adara wondered if anyone knew of his injury or if he was just being left to suffer. She shook that thought from her head; they needed able men not dead ones.

Adara didn't hesitate, she tried to halt the driver. "There's a man in there who needs help,"

He just brushed her aside. "Aye, this lot usually does."

"If you willingly let him die it'll be on your hands. I can't imagine your Lord Commander would be pleased at that."

The man, whose name she hadn't ever learned, looked at her. "What are you going on about, girl?"

"One of the men has an arrow, or something, in his arm. It needs to be taken out and looked at."

He grumbled but stopped the horsed nonetheless. He pulled up the rear so he called out ahead to warn of his stopping.

"This better be quick," he said as he got off his seat and went to open the bolted door. He got in the cell and yanked out the man ungracefully. "This one?"

Adara nodded and bit her lip, worried he had lost too much blood; he looked nearly unconscious. She help the man step down and lean against a moss covered boulder beside the road.

"Why didn't you say you were hurt?" Adara said before she realized to whom she was talking. Even if he had, clearly the driver didn't care.

He didn't make an answer but only because he didn't seem to have the strength to.

"What are you doing, Adara?" She looked up to see Piers standing above her. He looked confused at the scene before him. He squatted down next to her. "And are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said as she tore the man's sleeve gently off his arm. "He's hurt, I can't just leave him like this." Up close, the uneven, splintered wood arrow sticking out of his arm was more than a bit unsightly.

Piers looked away from the laceration, he sighed. "I know you can't."

A shadow fell over the three of them. Adara looked up to see Snow.

"Lord Mormont wants to know what's causing the hold up," he too bent down beside Adara and Piers. Upon closer inspection he could see what happened. "Can you do anything for him?"

Adara looked to Snow and nodded then looked back at the man laying before her. With the fabric of the sleeve out of the way, she had to remove the shaft of the arrow. She took a clean bit of his sleeve and tore it. She put it in the man's good hand and raised it to his mouth. "Bite, for the pain."

She didn't stall for another moment. In one swift movement she removed the arrow which had been much deeper than she anticipated. It tore his skin, only encouraging more blood loss. The hole in his arm startled Adara.

The man reacted harshly to her action though and spit out the swatch she had given him. He cried out, cursing her vehemently.

Piers and Snow admonished him, in unison.

"I need something to bandage his arm, my rucksack is in the cart." She looked up to them as she held the gash with the bloodied sleeve, applying pressure to stop the blood. She looked down at her hands. They were covered with the man's blood. "Quick," she exclaimed.

Piers was up and off towards the cart in a rush.

The man glared at her and through gritted teeth cursed her again, "bitch. I'm going to bleed to death because of you."

"Oh- did you mean to go through the rest of your life with this sticking out of arm?" Adara held up the bloodied arrow that she had removed moments before.

Snow snorted at that. She looked at him but when his eyes met hers she abruptly turned her face away from him. They waited in silence until Piers came jogging back to them, rucksack in hand, moments later.

"Here," she signaled for Snow, still beside her, to take her place applying pressure to the wound. He followed her instruction while she quickly dug through her bag, looking for something to dress the wound. She pulled out a bandage and went to work wrapping his arm. Though the blood seeped through the bandage, Adara had no other recourse but to let it be.

"All right," she said pushing herself away from her, now finished, work. Piers and Snow lifted the man to his feet. The driver locked the door behind him once he was in the caged prison.

Adara stood in place, hesitant to leave the man as he was, but unable to further aid him.

"C'mon, Addy," Piers said and gestured for her to keep up.

"I'll have to check on him later today." She didn't move, suddenly feeling anxious that the man had already lost too much blood, that he wouldn't make it.

"If he were to die would it be on me?" She couldn't keep her fear to herself.

"You did everything you could. You certainly didn't have to." Snow looked to her. She nodded vaguely and walked on with them.

Adara's fears turned out to be unfounded, despite the odds that were against the man's survival, it was now three days past and he still lived. Adara attributed it to the wine she had been able to siphon which was all she could find to clean the awful injury daily. He hadn't regained total use of his arm though which Adara feared would be permanent.

"What are you thinking about?" Piers caught her daydreaming, as they walked back from the well about half a mile down a worn path, squarely between a village further on and where camp had been set up. It was late afternoon now, the party having run into yet another speed bump, this time it was Lord Mormont's horse that needed a new shoe.

Adara put down the two buckets of clean well water she held which, though she wouldn't admit it, was too heavy for her. She shook her hands out to regain feeling again. A thought crossed her mind though, which she'd considered putting to Piers before but was never sure how to ask.

Piers stopped with her. "What?"

Adara, not one for tact, dove right in, "what happened with you and my sister? How did she come to be," she wrinkled her nose at the thought. "What happened?"

Piers' mouth became a straight line, "there's nothing much to say about all that. It was a long time ago."

"But-"

"Look, your sister wanted," he looked away from her, "everything. Certainly more than I could ever give her. Being in King's Landing, it made her aware of everything she didn't have. There was wealth there that we had never seen before leaving home. She became almost obsessed with," he paused, hesitant to continue. "Gisella, she wasn't selfish, but," Piers faltered again. "Since I couldn't give her the things she wanted, she decided to do whatever she had to forget what it was like to be poor."

"But, I never felt poor growing up. Did you? I never really wanted for anything I needed, we never went hungry."

"It's different in cities like King's Landing. You become a lot more conscious of your wants." Piers picked up his buckets again.

But she continued to press him. "But how did you two stop loving each other? You were supposed to be married, you two were so right for each other—"

"No, Adara, we weren't." He snapped at her. She watched him walk away angry but she wasn't sure why- couldn't she ask what exactly happened between the two people whose relationship seemed as sure as anything? For a moment she wanted to march after him, tell him he had no right to be angry with her but she instead swallowed her annoyance and watched him stalk off without her.

Adara sighed and looked down at the heavy wooden buckets, her hands ached just looking at them. Before she picked them up though, two men approached her, coming from the direction of the village. She shielded her eyes from the sun and tried to make out who it was. When she saw that it was Snow and Frede returning from their task of taking Lord Mormont's horse to get a new shoe, she hastily picked up the buckets and continued down the trail back to camp. The weight of the load she carried slowed her.

She didn't stop when she heard Frede call out to her, instead, she sped up. But she didn't have a choice when he caught up with her.

"I'll take those for you," Adara narrowed her eyes at him as he held out his hands to take the water from her.

"Why?" She stopped.

"It's no trouble at all." He smiled good-naturedly and looked over his shoulder to Snow who neared them.

She stalled, if only to stubbornly carry them back herself.

"Go on then," Snow encouraged.

"Fine. Here." She said, handing Frede the water. He took them from her then looked to Snow.

He nodded his head toward camp. "Off with you then, to camp." His directions were promptly followed by Frede.

Adara waited until he was a few paces ahead before speaking. "So I was right."

Snow nodded in admission. "It seems I have someone to do my bidding."

"You didn't have to do that. I could've managed it myself."

He shrugged. Adara didn't like his self-congratulatory look. She pursed her lips and wished to have the walk back to camp to herself. She glanced at Snow long enough for him to catch her and smirk. She dropped her eyes in a rare moment of embarrassment.

"Think you can beat me to the clearing over there?" He pointed up ahead.

Adara was chary of his offer. "A lady doesn't race."

He just laughed at that.

"Fine, what's the marker then?"

"The oak just past the clearing," Snow signaled in the distance.

"Sure." Adara was sure she could outrun him. She wasn't very strong but she was lighter than he and quick on her feet, she could help but grin at the thought of trouncing him.

"Ready?" He asked, poised to start.

"Go!" Adara took off. With the wind in her face, the speed of her gait pushed her blonde braid behind her. She held her skirts up with one hand, slowing her down some, but still managed to outpace Snow. The run was a bit uphill but, used to racing up and down the Red Mountains of her youth, it only seemed to propel her. Nearing the tree that served as their marker, she threw a look over her shoulder, to see Snow behind her. She pushed herself the last 10 yards, giving herself a clear victory.

"Ha," Adara managed to get out through her panting when Snow joined her at the tree.

He nodded at her, also out of breath. "I gave it to you," he smiled as he said it.

"You wish!" Adara pushed him, and laughed in surprise when he stumbled backwards and fell.

"Clumsy _and_ slow." She taunted him but held out her hand amiably, to help him up. She should have seen the smirk on his face when he took her hand. Instead of she pulling him up, Snow pulled her down with him.

She tried to hid her surprise at his little trick. "Very funny," she wasn't reproachful but became very aware of her position on top of him when he winced.

"I'm sorry." She swiftly made a move to pull away, afraid she had hurt the cut she had kept a careful eye on for nearly two weeks. She rolled off of him and sat up, again embarrassed.

"It's fine," he sat up too and, seeing her awkwardness and inclination to pull away, took hold of her arm to keep her from bolting.

She wasn't drunk now, though she could have been. She could have been completely insane because she knew exactly what was coming an she didn't stop it. And she certainly could have.

Snow's lips landed on hers and all she could do was sit there, eyes wide open and let him kiss her. But her shock faded to realization; it was a dare, she decided, like the race. He was pushing her, taunting her so he could laugh when she exploded in a fit of anger. She'd call his bluff then, if that's how he wanted to play.

She kissed him back, smiling in spite of herself, at his own surprise. He masked it by pulling her closer to him. Adara, having only chastely kissed a few boys in her life, was still startled by this one. It wasn't a passionate, love-filled embrace. No, far from it. But he kissed and it was unhurried and slow, almost teasingly so. Adara decided she didn't mind the feeling at all but pulled away anyway, remembering who it was she kissed.

They watched one another after they separated, as though challenging the other to back down first and comment. Both were mute.

Neither spoke as they stood.

They were silent as they got up and started walking the path back to camp.

"That was a mistake." Adara said matter-of-factly.

"Won't happen again." Snow agreed.


	8. Chapter Eight

**A/N: **I extended this chapter ekkkk. The end was going to start chapter nine but it works much nicer this way. Enjoy- again!

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**Chapter Eight**

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It had been two days since Snow had kissed her and she'd done a good job avoiding him for the most part. It hadn't been very hard either, she suspected he was doing the same. She wasn't so much embarrassed as confused. And not confused by him; she'd made up her mind as to why he did what he did. She was more bewildered by her own thoughts, specifically, why didn't it bother her at all? Was this a game now? she wondered. She didn't know, and wasn't happy that it occupied her thoughts at all.

But avoiding Snow became more of a challenge when he started palling around with Piers. Yesterday, when she noticed it, she was baffled. By the afternoon she was irritated, and when she went to bed she was fuming. Adara didn't blame Piers, of course, she doubted he realized what an utter clod Snow was. It was Snow's fault. He was being chummy with her only friend to vex her. It wasn't like he needed a friend.

She rose early the next morning. The cinders from the fire were still smoking and everyone was still slept. She quietly got up and readied herself for the day, washing her face and re-braiding her hair carefully. Adara couldn't help but sigh.

She wasn't a spoiled girl, to be sure, but the way of the life in the constant movement on the road was not to her liking. She missed a bed, a warm bath, clean clothes. She hadn't seen herself in a looking glass since King's Landing; she imagined she looked rather pinched. She'd always been of a somewhat insubstantial build but now both dresses she had hung on her more loosely than they ever had before. The bodice of the plain dress she wore didn't fit, looking down, she could see her clavicles awkwardly sticking out. Adara sighed again and kept moving, going to gather a few plants off the road before they left.

She wasn't bothered by being alone. She relished her own company, being left to her own thoughts. Adara imagined that was why she was drawn to healing to begin with. It was a solitary pursuit. When she had worked with her father they were often silent for hours, as he poured over his ledger and she took notes or gathered and catalogued. She thought of her father but feeling a lump form in her throat, pushed the memories away quickly.

Adara let herself get lost until she heard movement at the camp again. She followed her own path back to camp, the plants she gathered held in her apron. When she approached she saw that mostly everyone was still asleep save for Yoren. She went to the cart to stow the plants and remembered she had to boil the leaves for Lord Mormont before they left. She tucked the rose hip and elm bark in her pack but left out the dandelion leaves and took out the kettle to prepare it.

She looked up to Snow standing at the end of the cart. He cleared his throat. While she busied herself with her supplies she had cause enough to ignore him or at least not look at him. Adara tried to take her time. She looked over to him finally. He was watching her.

"You're up early." He finally said.

"Couldn't sleep."

He opened his mouth to say something but she jumped in before him. Her plan was to be as nonchalant as she could and she had been, to this point. But she remembered how chummy Snow had been with Piers—her friend— and she had to end that now.

"What's with you all of the sudden palling around with Piers?"

He shrugged, "why not? He's a good guy, I like him."

"Me too. He's my friend."

He almost laughed at that but stopped himself when he saw that Adara was serious. "Are you disallowing me to be friends with him?"

"Sure, say it like that and it sounds like I'm being crazy but you know why."

"Well, it is crazy. You're acting like a child. And I don't know why it would even matter to you,"

"We- you and I- are not friends."

"Fair enough, we're not. But that doesn't hold sway as to who my friends are, in fact, it does the opposite."

"Oh shut up," she cursed him. "He's my only friend here. He'll be at the Wall soon enough. You can be all chummy there. At least let me have him until then."

He dropped his insolent smile. "He'll be good up north, at the Wall."

She looked him in the eye, trying to detect any malice. Satisfied she didn't see any, she looked away and was quiet for a moment. She leaned against the cart and tried to imagine what it looked like all the way up there, what she imagined to be the very edge of the world.

"What's it like there?"

Snow considered her question before giving his answer. He looked at her too, to see if she was sincere. "Have you ever seen snow?"

Adara shook her head. "Not up close, I think it snowed at the very top of the Red Mountains though."

"Up there, it's a blanket of white, and cold, obviously. But the Wall… you've never seen something so massive. It's as tall as a mountain and goes from the sea in the east to the Frostfangs in the west."

"Is it true it's guarded by spells and magic?" Adara felt childish but couldn't help asking. The Wall was almost mythological to her, it could have been in a foreign land. To her, it was so incomprehensible. It was ancient too, she knew, built to keep out some fabled monsters. Demons from the ice and snow that had once supposedly held Westeros in winter and darkness but so long ago it was that Adara doubted such things existed now, if they ever really had.

"No, just the Night's Watch guards the Wall."

"I'd like to see it, just to say that I had. And to be at the edge of the world."

"It's not the edge of the world; there's Wildings in the forest and a huge expanse beyond them." He corrected her.

"All right, well, it's the edge of my world then. That's a thought, isn't it?"

"As someone whose never even seen snow, I don't know how much you'd like it there."

Adara shrugged. "I'd just be curious to see it, that's all. I doubt I ever will."

She heard Yoren's yell to wake those who still slept. She made a move to walk away.

"Wait a minute,"

She looked at him over her shoulder. She noticed his discomfiture and guessed what his next words would be.

"I came over here to say- the other day, when- when we," he was more ruffled than she would have expected him to be. She was tempted to let him bumble on but felt embarrassed herself.

"Won't happen again, right?"

"Right," he said as she walked away.

An hour later they were near ready to go. Adara's morning routine consisted of preparing a curative drink for Lord Mormont before the next day of travel started. She emptied the hot kettle into an earthen tumbler and handed him the concoction of the leaves infused in water she had managed to prepare in the most palatable way. He still had pain, she knew, but the leaves at least eased the worst of it when he woke. She had hoped to find something more potent but hadn't had such luck yet. As it were though, Lord Mormont seemed pleased well enough with her efforts.

"Thank you." He said in acknowledgment. Adara nodded her head. She turned to leave him, kettle in hand.

"If you could wait a moment-"

She stopped and turned back to him. "My lord?"

"I believe you're in a curious situation, my dear."

"Yes, my lord." She nodded, knowing this conversation was bound to happen sooner or later.

"I don't know if your plans have changed, but when we last spoke I believe you did not have any save for traveling north with your brother, correct?"

She nodded.

"I've given it some thought, about what to do about your situation. A decision has to be made sooner or later— we're a week from Winterfell and you shouldn't be going any further north without a solid plan anyway,"

"You' don't have to worry about me, my lord, I'll figure something out—"

"But have you?" He pressed.

She shook her head. She hadn't, of course. How could she? They'd barely passed though any towns and the ones they had certainly didn't have any opportunities that appealed to her. And more honestly, she hadn't been as proactive as she could have been.

"It's usually inappropriate to have a woman with us anyway, but with the whole business in King's Landing with Snow and having your brother here- well it turned out well enough, you've proven your worth," he cleared his throat, "so you'll understand that I feel a bit of concern taking you this far out and leaving, wherever."

He looked at the liquid in his cup and quickly downed it, a sour look on his face after he swallowed. "Nasty stuff," he said, holding the cup out to her. "works well enough though. Anyway, we'll pass Castle Cerwyn in a few days. It's about a half day's ride from Winterfell, Medger Cerwyn has a daughter- older than you- but I can see if they'd be able to take you on."

Adara didn't know this Cerwyn family, and by the sound of it, Lord Mormont was proposing to send her as some maid to a lady. It wasn't ideal but as he had said, she didn't have a plan. She held in her disappointed sigh.

"Thank you, Lord Mormont."

She had come this far with nothing, for nothing. It was up to her to make her mind up about her future.

* * *

Adara was drunk. Not literally, but it was the only word she could use to describe the strange and impaired way her mind was now working. And because of that, she was filled with self-pity and angst. At least more than usual. She hated that she felt this way- that her feelings were so over-whelming. She was more upset about the impairment her emotions brought about than if it had been alcohol.

In two days she'd most likely be at some foreign castle, Piers would soon be a world away at the Wall. Then what? She blamed her nervousness for the panic she felt but in truth it was as much that as it was time for her to face facts.

She didn't give herself away though, so she sat away from the group, letting her morose thoughts buzz around her. Regret over leaving Dorne, of even leaving King's Landing bothered her now, the swarm around her mind and she had to face them now- acknowledge that maybe it wasn't her best idea to go with Piers. But the thought of being alone in King's Landing had scared her, truly. So here she was; seventeen and old enough to make up her mind, to take care of herself. She knew herself enough to know she'd be discontent as some maid or servant. She knew she was more than that, she had to be.

She'd heard Yoren say that White Harbor, the largest city in the North, was a few days away. She considered going there, at the very least, she'd be able to apprentice with a midwife. Maybe that was the decision she had to make- it was, she decided but then just as quickly dismissed it too.

The sun had long ago set and the night air was cold. She stood, finding her feet more steady than her head, walked through the camp, her destination nowhere- only to get out, into the night. She looked up at the dark sky, the clouds obscured the stars but the moon cast enough light for her to see her way.

"Ow!" She cried out, her eyes skyward she had walked right into Yoren. "Sorry!" She quickly apologized. She could admit she was still a bit intimidated by him. She winced.

"Where you off to?" He asked in his usual blunt manner.

"Nowhere. Just a walk." She started to do just that.

"It isn't a good idea to be walking around these forests unarmed, alone, at night— there's wolves, bears," He warned.

She ignored his advice, "all right." She kept walking.

She balked at Yoren's warning once she was far enough away. "It's just because I'm a girl he doesn't trust me to be out alone." She kicked a stick out of her path, annoyed. She wasn't more than fifty yards from camp when she stopped, a noise behind her startling her. She turned slowly, wondering if Yoren was right. What were the chances a bear had snuck up on her?

"Come on back," she didn't know what she expected.

She'd have preferred the bear.

"Yoren sent you to fetch me?" She said sweetly, not stopping as Snow now walked with her.

"Yes," he said curtly.

She waved him off, "just leave me alone. I'm fine."

"Don't be stupid, Adara," he chastised which only made her walk faster.

"I'm not-"

"Do I have to send Piers to retrieve you from your senseless expedition?"

"I'm not some child that has to be retrieved."

"Then don't act like one," she felt him reach for her arm to stop her, his fingers just brushed her arm. She watched as he just as quickly pulled back, as though realizing himself, avoiding contact. She probably would have yelled at him to release her but seeing the abrupt change in his bearing nearly made her laugh; it was like he was scared of her.

"What's this?" She said, she couldn't hide the glee, he was unnerved.

"What?" He returned, looked innocent of anything but annoyed nonetheless.

She laughed. Anger and annoyance faded so quickly in the little amusement she could take in this. _He_ had kissed her— and whatever weirdness between them that resulted was his doing. _He_ started it so she had expected him to have a little more nerve. She understood not wanting to talk about it but he couldn't even casually touch her without almost blushing.

"Nothing," she shook her head at him and walked on.

He grabbed her arm this time though, first halting her steps then pulling her with him as he turned back to camp.

"All right, you can let go," she insisted after a few steps.

"I don't trust you not to run off like an idiot just to prove a point." He pulled her along.

She started to resist, but he didn't release her. She tugged her arm back. He didn't relent though. She tried to pull away once more.

Adara forgot the moment earlier when she'd thought him timid. He unexpectedly stopped and pulled her to him, effectively startling and silencing her. Now she was the one apprehensive and diffident. In a rare moment, she struggled to find her voice. But her mouth wouldn't work in the way it was supposed to. They were so close, that's what alarmed her— but she didn't pull her arm away now.

A lump popped up in her throat, and she completely forgot about what she'd been trying to say. Instead, she was very aware of how his breath was on her cheek, of how their bodies were nearly totally pressed together, of how her heart was pounding irregularly.

"Won't happen again, remember?"

Did he hear her? He didn't act like it and she almost hoped he didn't— she kept imagining the feel of his mouth on hers, of her hands through his hair. Where were these thoughts coming from — they scared her but it was hard to think of much else.

Adara wasn't sure which one of them leaned forward, but suddenly their lips were touching, just barely. All coherent thoughts disappeared, and her pulse quickened, her skin heated, it was all too ridiculous- this rush she felt. And yet, it wasn't even much of a kiss. His mouth was cool, but when it touched hers it seemed to burn. He brushed his lips against her own before he pulled back, making her half-closed eyelids fly up in surprise. He stepped away, dropping her arm, leaving the area of her body where his had been before feeling cold.

Adara didn't put up a fight as they walked out of the woods.

Neither said anything, again.

But no promises were made this time.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

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The Kingsroad: main overland route in the Seven Kingdoms. The most substantial road in the kingdoms, it extends for almost two thousand miles, from the northernmost end at Castle Black, through the capital at King's Landing, it continues its run south to the capital through the Stormlands to Storm's End.

This is what Adara had garnered so far into the journey north. Her journey, that was very near its end. Castle Cerwyn was to be her final destination. It was only two days away now. She wasn't scared at what possibly awaited her there, but she was anxious. And a certain gloom had overtaken her, knowing she was soon to be separated from Piers and that, chances were, they would never see each other again. She'd never go to the Wall and he'd probably spend the rest of his days there. But she'd put on a brave face and tried to be mature about it all; she was lucky after all. She could've been stuck in King's Landing, or worse, ended up like her sister. It was a thought that still troubled her enough to give her chills. She couldn't expect everything, she knew that, she accepted that.

But, in truth, she was scared to be alone.

She could act as strong and tough as she pleased but at the end of the day, everyone that had been close to her was already, or about to be, gone. Her mother had died so long ago she couldn't picture her face anymore. It didn't seem cruel to her anymore, for a daughter to grow up not knowing her mother; it was a reality that wasn't singular to her. Her father was gone now too, a death more fresh and more profound, only made more difficult by the fact that she alone mourned his passing. Her only sibling, Gisella, at least the one she had know as a girl growing up, was all but dead too. She could accept it now- it wasn't as bitter as it had been in the days immediately after leaving the city. She could rationalize her sister's choices in way now that didn't hurt her, only sadness and pity remained.

Only Piers was left and Adara could all but feel him being torn from her in every second that passed. His easy smile and brotherly affection had made her feel safe and loved. She'd only ever felt such closeness to her father. She thought it cruel that she should have to that give up now too.

But she wasn't in any position to choose, she reasoned for the hundredth time. Two more days to Cerwyn, she thought, unsure whether she should welcome the change ahead.

"Wait up, Addy," She looked over her shoulder to Piers calling her name. He jogged to catch up with her. She couldn't help but smile at him, the slight sentimentality she possessed exposed.

He caught her grin, "what's that about?" He poked her cheek where a dimple could have been.

She slapped his hand away playfully. "Nothing. Just a smile."

He laughed at that. "I'm not sure I trust it."

She exaggeratedly rolled her eyes.

"Listen, I have something I want to ask you." She looked at him as he abruptly dropped his teasing tone.

"Oh? What is it?"

"Now, don't hurt me for asking but, well, please, be honest with me, Adara." He nearly winced just at that. Her chest tightened, and she instantly anticipated the worst. It wasn't like Piers to be quite so serious.

She tried to keep it light, "what is it?" She kept her eyes ahead on the road, too nervous he would see something in her face, she wasn't sure what.

He wavered. "I feel stupid for even asking, it's just — is there anything going on with you and Jon Snow?" The last words flew out of his mouth in a rush.

Adara sighed, relieved. Whatever she expected, it wasn't this.

She looked at Piers, his face was strained in disquieted anticipation of her reaction and, no doubt, her answer. He almost looked scared at her possible response, she tried to laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood which had turned awkward, tense.

"Why would you even think that?" No matter what had happened a kiss or not, there was nothing between them. She knew Piers couldn't possibly think there was something between her and Snow- he didn't even know they had kissed. But she looked at him sharply, wondering how he could have come to think such a thing, let alone ask her. She quickly turned defensive.

"Did someone say something to you? Why are you asking me this?"

She saw the struggle on Piers' face, his dark eyes narrowed in consideration. "No, no one said anything I just—"

"You're a terrible liar." Adara scoffed, now sure something had been said to him. He wasn't the suspicious, suspecting type. And though she knew he was just looking out for her, she didn't appreciate the question nor the implicit accusation.

"I'm just—"

"How did you come up with something so stupid?" She railed. She had sense enough not to yell at him but let her tone convey her anger.

"I'm not stupid- that's why I'm asking." His brown eyes searched her face but she kept it blank.

"I'm not talking about this." She crossed her arms and charged forward without a look back at him. There was no reason she had to keep anything from Piers, she knew that, but she also knew he'd not approve and would scold her like she were a child. But at the same time she knew there was no harm in an innocent kiss or two with someone whose days would be spent at the Wall, far from Castle Cerwyn, where she was to end up. It didn't hurt anyone. That was that, she wasn't going to waste another moment thinking about it.

A dull task seemed to only encourage the though you'd prefer to avoid Adara found as the day progressed. Between the numbing boredom of walking and the aching pain in her feet, Adara wasted many moments thinking. Since having walked off from Piers, she spent the remaining daylight, and thus traveling, hours by herself. Night fell quickly further north, she realized. When they stopped for the night she didn't bother looking for Piers.

Instead, she waited till it after the fires had been lit, they had supped, and some men had started dozing. What the next few days held did make her anxious but she was more than ready for the monotony of the road to end. She sat, resting her elbow on her thigh and dropping her chin into her hand, watching everyone as the sun nearly disappeared. Her eyes followed Snow and when she saw Frede breakaway from him, she walked over to where he stood, unsaddling Lord Mormont's horse.

"I need to talk to you," she could hear the edge in her own voice, the sharp tone was certainly less than welcoming.

Snow looked at her and sighed as though he were already exasperated with her. He waited for her to continue, but she found herself silent. "Yes?"

She suddenly felt wholly self-conscious, what a trifling matter she had wanted to confront him with and how silly she would seem; to do nothing but yell at him for what? Talking to the other men? Wasn't that in their nature — to brag of conquests — though she loathe to think it as such with him, she couldn't rail at him for that. He already said she acted like a child she didn't need to give him yet another reason. She would bite her tongue, this time. It was an alien feeling for her.

She looked at him and realized how she looked, standing there silently before him, rethinking her words. He looked at her still, his initial look of annoyance transformed into curiosity.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes." She shook her head, "never mind." She backed away. She couldn't help but feel confused at her own actions, or lack of, really. Had she shrunk away from confrontation because of her own timidity? If it wasn't that she didn't know what halted her.

"Hold on." He stopped her, though she wanted to walk away. She felt so inhibited, unnatural.

"What?" She could even hear it in her voice, the strain.

"Mormont said you're going to Castle Cerwyn." His voice conveyed nothing and his face was equally unyielding.

She shrugged, "That's right."

"You'll be there tomorrow night then."

"I suppose so."

"I'm riding ahead, at dawn, to Winterfell." There it was. This was the end then.

She wasn't sad at his words. Instead, she felt like she'd been kicked in her stomach, like the wind had been knocked out of her; she didn't know what to make of it and she had no inclination to understand why.

On some level she must have been conscious that _everyone_ was going to the Wall. And maybe that's why she didn't want to start what would of course be a fight. But it had been a fight the whole time it seemed, since they had met in King's Landing, even when she had saved his life. They had started the trek north almost enemies and though they weren't anymore, they weren't friends either. She didn't look at him; she wasn't sure what to say if this was goodbye. She didn't want to be mean but extending herself, being nice, felt unnatural.

But silence wasn't right either.

"Keep an eye on Piers, will you? I don't think he's ever had to fight really, or wield a sword or whatever. I think he only joined to get out of King's Landing and forget my sister but I doubt he realizes what he's getting himself into." She looked around to make sure Piers wasn't within hearing.

"He'll be fine up there." He reassured her. His eyes met hers but she quickly looked away, she was uneasy.

Something hung between them that gave Adara pause but she wasn't sure what to do nor say. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his hand reach out to her but she deftly stepped aside. The instinct of flight, usually very second nature to her, set in.

"I guess this is good-bye then, Jon Snow." She swallowed hard and finally looked at him.

An emotion flashed through his depthless gray eyes, but it flickered by so quickly she couldn't grasp what it was. In a moment it was gone, replaced by his usual stoic glance. "Right, well, good-bye." He said effortlessly.

He said it with such ease it was easy for her to turn around and walk away. Maybe if he had stalled or faltered she wouldn't have turned and walked away. Because that's not what she wanted to do. With every step she realized how much she wanted to kiss him for the last time; purely for the rush it gave her — it was the only slightly enlivening thing that had happened to her lately. That and the attack by the mountain clans which she hadn't even been conscious for and which nearly caused a concision. Somehow she likened the two.

She didn't want Snow in any intimate way— of course not. She craved the rush of, _everything_, that kissing him caused. The heady feeling, and possible the risk in it; she knew full well he wasn't supposed to have any physical relationship with her or any woman for that matter. It only helped that she was attracted to him, she had been since the start.

Adara turned on her heel and walked back to him. Standing before him, she didn't second guess herself when she looked up at him. He read her easily. Hidden behind the horses, they were safe from curious eyes.

There's no harm in this, she rationalized, the last time. He'll be gone soon. Tomorrow.

Their lips didn't meet, instead he held her by shoulders, his face angled as if he were just about to kiss her. But he didn't. She met his gaze, confused. To her chagrin, he was looking at her strangely; he frowned looking both intense and perplexed.

He was conflicted. And instantly any desire to kiss him was gone.

She was trying _not_ to give this much thought. But he was, she sighed and pulled out of his grasp. He was too earnest and careful about all this now - now when it didn't matter. She started to walk away from him for the second time, annoyed at his sudden seriousness. He followed her though until he blocked her path back to camp.

She pursed her lips and stubbornly looked away.

"Why though, Adara?" He asked quietly.

Slowly, she turned her head to meet his eyes, and found him staring at her. He asked why while she asked why not.

"Because you let me." She answered his question through gritted teeth.

She looked at him, her expression honest, open. It was true, she knew — or had thought she knew — he would let her kiss him and be an active participant. She was wrong though, and she hated being wrong. He didn't stop to irk or goad her. Worse, he'd gotten thoughtful.

She pushed past him, her shoulder nudging his.

He was a stupid boy, she thought. And she was glad to be rid of him.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh my sweet summer child, we're far from rid of Jon Snow :)

And a big ol' thanks to my lovely reviewers!


	10. Chapter Ten

**A/N:** This story lives!

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**Chapter Ten**

* * *

Adara sat on a bench in the big, bustling kitchen at Winterfell, barely noticing the servants brushing past her. Her eyes focused on the little scrap of parchment in her hands which was now worn and dirty from her nervous hands constantly folding and unfolding it. She had to decide. Soon. Always decisive, Adara faltered now.

For the nearly eighteen years spent in Dorne, her life had been fairly monotonous. Though it had never seemed that way until now- when she was far from home and had choices before her. But she knew her mind was already made up.

Adara had been at Castle Cerwyn for barely a week when a rider, a squire from Winterfell, had come with a note from Lord Mormont. Within it, people and places were named she had no knowledge of, but the crux of the matter was that the death of the Maester at Castle Black left the position empty. And though it was far from an invitation to fill it, the remoteness of the Wall meant that it would be weeks before the Citadel dispatched a suitable replacement. Lord Mormont wished for her to act as locum healer for the time being, as one of the Maester's chief concerns was healing and the fortress could hardly do without someone with at least tolerable knowledge.

Adara had barely adjusted to her new life at Cerwyn but didn't give staying there a second thought as she read the letter from Lord Mormont in Lady Jonella Cerwyn's solar. She bade her new mistress a quick farewell without apology. She was at Winterfell by night. It had happened so quickly, doubt never had a chance to develop. Now at Winterfell, she would continue north with her original party, Lord Mormont and the others would leave soon, the Winterfell squire had told her. Between Winterfell and the Wall there would be no refuge; it was the harshest part of the trek.

In the cold light of day though, Adara wondered if she was to hasty in her departure; once a new Maester was sent, she would be adrift again. Fretful, she involuntarily crushed the parchment in her hand. She pushed the bothersome thoughts from her mind, it was a matter she would have to address when the time came.

_It's settled then_, Adara thought, _I'll go- it will be a good experience and certainly when I leave I can get a recommendation_. Again, she felt the nudging uncertainty of the future but pushed it aside again. Satisfied, Adara left the warmth and pleasant smells of the Winterfell kitchen and walked toward the yard. A late morning mist hung in the air, she looked up to the dark sky to see that a storm threatened to break soon.

She had it in her mind to find Piers before she met with Lord Mormont to tell him her decision, and hoped to find him in the stables. As she crossed the yard, the cold heavy mist on her skin roused her. She could almost imagine how snow on her bare skin would feel, as ignorant as she was of such a thing. Walking the perimeter of the yard, she admired the vastness of the place- it seemed as large to her as a mountain but there was coldness to it as well; a certain remoteness she both saw and felt.

She quickened her step, hoping the stables were near, as the mist turned into a light rain. As she passed the heavy smoke and loud hammering of the smithy, she saw the stable not twenty paces away. Entering, thick air inside assailed her instantly; the pungent smell of horses, sweat, and mildewy hay prevailed despite the open doors and shutters.

Adara saw no sign of Piers but heard a soft murmur and someone clicking their tongue coaxingly. She walked over to the stall where she saw a familiar figure trying to cajole a dark foal. She watched Snow try to lead the difficult foal out but to no avail. Now shed of the oppressive black he always wore, he was now dressed in such simple clothes she could have mistaken him for a Winterfell stable hand. She watched him candidly, sure she had never noticed his certain, swift grace.

She had all but forgotten her endeavor to find Piers.

It was only when she became worried he would catch her watching him did she speak up.

"An obstinate filly or a strong-willed colt?"

Snow's eyes stared fixedly at her for a long moment, as though something hung in the balance, his dark brow furrowed and unfurrowed; his confusion being only the most superficial of his thoughts.

She opened and shut her mouth the speak again, all too aware of their parting days before. But she said nothing more, letting him decide if that too would be bygones.

Finally, a heavy sigh gave way to a reluctant smile. "I'd say she's a spirited girl." He managed to smooth the filly's mane before shutting the stall door. Adara watched his every move, still unsure if he was going to let their last exchange pass without mention. He wiped his hands on his jerkin and pushed the dark waves of his hair back carelessly.

When he finally looked at her again, relief overcame her at his honest smile, "so what are you doing all the way up here at Winterfell? Have you already been expelled from Castle Cerwyn?"

"Aye, you're not rid of me yet, I'm afraid."

"So it didn't work out?" She walked with him toward the stable doors, where a fresh, chilly gust of wind rushed in.

Adara shook her head, "I suppose not. But I've had another offer." She wasn't sure if she should even tell him, she was pleased with her very recent design and didn't want her plans to be thwarted by anyone. She looked out to the yard, the drizzle had turned to an angry downpour. The rain chilled the already cold air.

"Another offer? So I suppose you and Piers will yet be separated, does he know yet? He'll not be heartbroken then."

Adara only half heard him, watching the rain, her doubts ebbing.

"It's at Castle Black."

His smile faded. "Castle Black."

She nodded. "The Maester there has died. Lord Mormont said I could help out there until a new one is sent from the Citadel. He said it could take weeks. It would be temporary, but Lord Mormont said I may be able to study with the new Maester if he allows it, which is more than I could have ever hoped for. I don't think I'd ever have an opportunity like that again." She felt herself saying what she could persuade him to her thinking, that it was a good idea. His blank face gave away nothing. She didn't know why she wanted his approval.

She silently watched as his eyes were drawn to the torrent of rain outside.

"I've decided to go." She was vaguely aware of the pain of her nails digging into her palms in uneasy expectation. It doesn't matter what he thinks, she told herself. You've already made up you mind.

He still didn't look at her. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Prepared for his negation, she immediately balked, "I've come this far north—"

"It's a harsher life up there, I'm sure Mormont left that out. You'd be the only woman—"

"I was the only woman all the way up here too,"

He looked at her now, about to say something but she beat him to it, not wanting to be talked out of her decision, she cursed herself for even mentioning it to him now. She should have never expected him to be of the same mind, it was a ridiculous thought.

"What did you mean about Piers being heartbroken? He'd be happy for me no matter what."

Snow's gray eyes grew wide at that. "You're kidding,"

"No," she snapped. "I'm not."

He looked at her curiously. "He," he chuckled darkly, "he's in love with you. You knew that though- you must have."

Adara felt self-conscious and embarrassed, she was startled by his words. It wasn't true. Nevertheless, she felt the pangs of something, in the pit of her stomach and the dark recess of her mind. Should she have known? She felt her heart drop— how could Piers do this to her? He wouldn't, she reasoned; he loved her like she loved him- in a very platonic way.

Snow pulled her from her distressed thoughts. "Oh, come on, you must have known. I at least assumed something since, well, King's Landing."

It was just like Snow to spoil everything. She narrowed her eyes. "He's like a brother to me."

He shook his head evenly. "No, Adara, he's not."

She had been happy enough in her ignorance. Anger flared within her, he was saying this to be cruel. "You're lying."

He crossed his arms, "I'm not a liar. I wouldn't have said anything if I knew you'd get so upset." He turned away.

She indulged in a quick moment of introspection, and decided it wasn't wholly impossible for him to be lying, though she willfully shucked any culpability in the matter.

Snow turned back to her. "Is he the one who wants you to go? To the Wall?"

"No," she said cooly. "I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions."

He snickered at that. "I'm sure I know that." He paused for a moment. "When you- if you ask him what you should do, don't be surprised if he wants you to go to the Wall with him." He stopped and looked up at her. "But I'm telling you; you won't like it up there. The both of you would be miserable, and you being around would just make him all the more miserable. He'll take a vow, you know." He looked at her pointedly.

She unconsciously stepped back, trying to understand exactly what was going on. Why was he going out of his way to discourage her from going to Castle Black? What ill could it possibly bring to him? What true harm could it do to her?

"Why do you care?" She returned.

"I don't." He spoke in a voice of biting calm.

She'd wanted to better manage her anger but his response nudged her over the edge. "Then why are you like this?" Adara cried out.

"Why are you?" His response was just as quick.

Retreat wasn't in either of their natures. She was too stubborn and he was too sure of his own righteousness. But no one was going to win this fight, one couldn't will the other to capitulate. Neither would stand down. And both exasperated by the other, as usual.

She wasn't about to make him care, no, but she was going to push him, like he pushed her that sunny day when they were on the King's Road. In a few quick steps she was upon him. She went against her instincts; to push. She pushed people away. She didn't pull them in. But she did now. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her. She looked into his eyes and saw the want there. It almost surprised her.

She could easily push him away, she realized, and he'd be more sore than she, her lip curled at the small satisfaction that she had this power over him.

She didn't push him away, but her pause was long enough for him to take matters into his own hands. He brought his lips to hers, making aggressive, vigorous contact. She met him with just as much spirit, her frustration and anger goaded her. She knew this wasn't the answer to anything just as she knew the undertone had shifted away from trivial, trifling.

She wasn't cognizant of much but could feel that it wasn't like before; it wasn't light-hearted and teasing.

She didn't care though, and doubted very much that he did. She felt like this was the only time they understood each other; no words, no emotions, just this physical moment when they both could yield, equally, without having to admit defeat.

He was leaning on to her, her back now against the stone wall. He kissed her with such force her head actually thumped the wall, and she barely noticed. She couldn't feel any of the cold dampness, the winter chill had gone; she was alight.

His hands were gripping her shoulders hard, like he was holding her up on her feet. Suddenly his lips left hers and trailed down off her cheek, and onto her neck. She closed her eyes.

Her own arms were around his neck, clinging to him while bringing him closer all the while. He was placing frantic kisses on her throat, on her collarbone, until finally he was at her mouth again.

Her head spinning now, she had to pull away, if only to regain control. When she finally did she could feel her heart pounding away.

Adara didn't avert her eyes this time and neither did he. In the past she had had little regard for his thoughts, but now she wanted to know— she needed to know exactly what he was thinking, she couldn't look away.

Usually stoic, and just as guarded as she, she saw something fierce in his cool gray eyes for the first time.

Fear.

It was there so clear, so lucid, just for an instant then it was gone.

She didn't know what he saw in her. She didn't know if her mess of feelings were just as obvious, but she was sure he didn't realize the window he had allowed her to peek into for that moment. She understood his next words.

He dropped his hands from her shoulders and backed away hesitantly.

The rain was so loud she almost missed it.

"Please, don't come to the Wall."

He was gone.

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Thoughts? Concerns? Reviews?


	11. Chapter Eleven

_Ta-daaa._

I promise these 2,000 words did not take me 6 months. I've been distracted.

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**Chapter Eleven**

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There was something very terrible about the cold that seemed to make every muscle hurt, exacerbate any ache, extend any ill. Her head hurt, her heart ached; many ills seemed to plague her- all of which Adara could only attribute to the cold, white desert just outside the think stone walls of Castle Black.

Her eyes followed the dancing flames in her small fireplace, distracting her from less than cheery thoughts. A quick tap at the door jolted her, yet she did not make a move to answer, now unsure whether it had been a trick of her mind or not. Adara looked back to the flames again, satisfied that it was nothing. Yet, she heard the knock again, to her irritation.

"Bloody hell, who is it?" She snapped, knowing full well that anyone who had leave to liaise would have promptly announced himself and whatever his need.

She heard a loud sigh from the other side of the door. "Adara, just open the door." She immediately stood at the sound of Jon Snow's voice, yet once on her feet, she wavered in her response.

"What is– what do you want?" She moved towards the door but did not open it. She heard a quiet curse on the other side yet she remained unmoving. But she easily retreated when he swiftly opened the door, entered the room, and shut it just as quickly.

She eagerly took in the sight of him, the heavy black gear of The Watch having been shed, his lean frame was much more apparent to her inquisitive eyes. Looking upon his face, Adara felt no shame as she surveyed him; the marks of boyhood had now been lost. His beard was cut close, his face looked leaner, his jaw stronger. Yet, when she met his cool gray eyes, they gave away nothing. Though she had felt no shame in staring upon him now, her hands flew to her hair, aware she had left it down, and that she must look a mess.

Another thought came to her though, "you're not supposed to be in here."

She'd been in this terrible dark and cold place for weeks now. Miserable, she was far too proud to admit that perhaps it had been a mistake coming here. Although the Lord Commander allowed her to study in the absent maester's library- a luxury that was so far from her experience of scrutinizing her father's old and very worn pages, she had spent less time in the library than she did in her chambers. For the most part, Adara kept to her room in a rather isolated part of the fortress. Outside her rooms, she didn't feel comfortable by herself in this place.

She had never considered herself a delicate girl, or fearful of much of anything, but she was not used to the atmosphere here. And being the only woman surrounded by men that were not used to her presence, or any woman, put her on edge- and it was far more than the leering glances or lewd comments. She knew where many of these men came from. And after an unnerving encounter within the first few days, Adara made sure she took out of the way corridors to the kitchen and library, the only places she frequented.

Adara was frustrated and alone, and seeing Snow in her doorway made her all the more aware of her mistake. She longed for the bright heat of the south over this barren, cold, and hellish place. She wanted to lash out at him, but she couldn't find the energy nor a reason to do so. She sank further into herself.

"What do you want?"

She watched him shift his weight as he looked around her room. His eyes eventually came back to rest on her. "I haven't seen you lately, I wasn't even sure if you were still here. Piers said–"

"Well I am still here so, you don't have to wonder anymore." She sat in the chair she'd been occupying before he entered. "Is that all?"

"Are you unwell?" She smarted at that, taking the question as a comment instead. But she wondered if she was truly was unwell. The inertia of the past weeks had taken a toll on her mind and body. Adara glanced at her hands idly resting in her lap, they looked foreign to her now, chapped and whiter than she'd ever seen them.

_What kind of godless place has no sun? _she wondered. The sun gave life; there was no life to be found here. Nothing but a few hundred men, most of whom were law breaking miscreants.

Her thoughts were broken as Snow bent over her. She shifted in her seat at his nearness. He was so close–

"What?" She indignantly leaned away from him. Too close.

"Piers said you locked yourself in the library last week, that you won't see him."

"_Yes_."

Snow waited for an explanation. Adara shrugged and turned away, crossing her arms.

"I don't understand, you were stubbornly insistent about coming here. Mormont has allowed you access to the library but instead you just hole up in your room unless, of course, you're locking yourself in the library."

"You told me not to come here, have you come tell me you were right? To gloat and tell me I'm not well?" She pushed herself up from the chair and walked to the hearth, poking at the meager flames. She turned to him, expecting an answer. "Well?"

His mouth tightened. "No, I was concerned, that is, I wanted to make sure you were well. Piers said–"

"Yes, yes, I know of your concern. I believe this is the first time I've seen you since we arrived, your worry over me is nearly as suffocating as Piers'."

Lately she'd come to dismiss Piers almost daily when we tried to talk to her, though she wondered how he had both the time and energy to deal with her foul temper. He was the only one who showed her an ounce of compassion and she'd done a fine job of pushing him away. Adara couldn't help it, she was frustrated, and hated this place. Besides, since leaving Winterfell, after Snow had tried to convince her of Piers' feelings, she wondered if there was any truth to his accusation. She doubted it just as she doubted him. Yet, she could barely stomach Piers' kindness.

"You're not exactly the easiest person to, to– you're not an easy person." He stood next to her at the hearth. She had an uncanny urge to lean in, towards him. _This place is driving me insane_. She stopped herself.

"Don't worry, I won't be here forever. You won't have to be bothered by my troublesome ways." She smirked, in spite of herself, realizing it was true, she would leave this place. And, in all likelihood, sooner rather than later.

"Piers is going to ask you to leave with him. Soon." Snow shook his head after he said it, as though he was both relieved and rueful. Adara looked at him, confused.

"His training, the vows,"

"He is free to leave before he takes them."

"I don't think that's what he wants," Adara shook her head. She looked at Snow, expecting something. She didn't know what.

His grey eyes were stony now, "you should say yes when he asks."

"When he asks to leave? Does he need my permission?"

He looked away and scoffed. "When he asks you to marry, of course."

Her initial unease was now giving way to a more familiar, baser emotion; anger.

"You're hateful, do you know that? Have you and Piers been planning this, talking about his plans for this while I waste away, alone in this freezing fortress?"

He turned back to her. "Don't be so dramatic, Adara. You chose this and you're free to do as you wish. And Piers only told me last night. And I told–"

She waited only a beat. "–And I told you not to come, right?"

He ignored her comment. "If you're miserable," he paused.

"I get it."

"I just don't think it's right for you both to be miserable here." His stare was no longer flinty.

"I said I get it, you don't have to justify what you think, least of all to me." She seated herself again before the fire. "Why did you even come to tell me?"

He shrugged and looked away.

They were both quiet, avoiding eye contact. Adara recalled the weeks on the road from Winterfell to the Wall. How Piers seemed to be her only friend, that after her confrontation with Snow he ignored her, that the others followed suit, and how the sworn brothers in their party wholly disagreed with Mormont's decision to let her follow them. _A woman at the Wall. Preposterous. _

But she realized that she would've forgiven that hurt if Snow had come in with words of friendship, not dismissal.

"What do you expect me to say?" He finally looked at her again.

She didn't snap a smart retort, she considered his question, his position. It was self-preservation, she knew. And she couldn't begrudge him that.

She met his stare, no longer angry or confused. Adara took a deep breath, "I don't expect you to say anything."

* * *

It had been four days since Snow had come to her room. She hadn't been sleeping well, expecting Piers to appear and make good on Snow's words. Since the second night after seeing Snow, she'd taken to going to the library to study, and sleep during the days. She was sure her body didn't notice the difference the between night and day, her mind certainly didn't. But after the third night of nocturnal study, as she dragged herself to the kitchen for breakfast with the intent of going to bed shortly thereafter, she felt it catching up with her.

Adara struggled to keep her eyes open. She hurried through the dim and drafty corridor, hoping she was ahead of the men breaking their fast. She pushed the heavy door of the kitchen open and saw that stewards were already preparing the morning meal. She slipped in a grabbed a hunk of nearly stale bread from yesterday at least and a few slivers of cheese from a block that she'd been sourcing from for the past couple of days. With her meager meal in hand, Adara took a seat on the bench at the far end of the kitchen, which she far preferred, as this was the warmest room she had found yet. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, imagining, as she often did, of the Red Mountains, her father, the past.

"Addy," she recognized the tentative voice without opening her eyes. "It's good to see you out of your rooms."

She looked up at Piers, swallowing a particularly hard piece of bread. She only nodded, and glanced towards the door, ready to leave.

"I'd talk with you, if I could."

She just nodded again as he sat next to her on the bench.

Piers hesitantly smiled at her, distracting her from the words that soon followed. Adara felt her eyelids drooping and sleep creeping up.

"What?" She had entirely missed his words, unable to focus.

"You don't have to deny it, I know you're not happy here. I'll leave, if you want. I'll leave with you… we could marry. Like you said in King's Landing months ago—"

Her fears were coming to fruition.

"Oh, no," she shook her head emphatically. "Take your vows, Piers, like you had planned. You came all the way here for that reason, you have to do it. Don't worry about me, everything will work out."

"I do worry about you, Addy." He took her hand that gripped the edge of the wood bench. "I love you."

She didn't want this. And she didn't want to hurt him. Still, she pulled her hand away from him.

"You don't," she swallowed tensely. "You love me like a sister, that's all. You're confused, this place has you all mixed up."

"I'm not confused."

Adara was tired and she didn't have patience for this, despite her hope to spare Piers' feelings, she certainly wasn't going to lie to him. She stood up from the bench, glancing back at him, "don't do this, Piers."

He followed her out of the kitchen, to her chagrin. With every step she heard trailing hers, she forgot her fatigue and only wanted to slap him away. When they were a safe enough distance from the others in the hall, as the men had started their morning meal, she turned on him, any sympathy she had now gone.

"What do expect me to do, marry you and start having a child a year until I die? That's not what I want, that has never been what I want."

"It doesn't have to be like that. You're 18, Addy, what are you going to do? Leave here on your own? Where would you go?"

"Yes. Yes, I will go. This place has made me miserable, and I don't think I can wait until a new maester arrives."

"Wait,"

"There's nothing keeping me here, and I won't marry you because I know you don't love me, not like that at least. You think I'm being stubborn, don't you? Well, I'm not, I know you Piers, we grew up together. You're a good man and you feel bound to me because of my sister perhaps, but no matter what you or Snow say, I think you want to be love with me much more than you actually are."

"Addy," he interrupted.

"Just let me finish. I don't need you to protect me or to marry me, I've only ever wanted you to be my friend, you're like a brother. If you don't want to join the Nights Watch, that's fine. But don't do it on my account." She sighed. "I think it's best if I leave here soon anyway." She nearly winced at the thought of Snow telling her to leave, offering nothing else.

Piers looked crestfallen. "You can't just walk out of here, where would you even go?"

She yawned. "Perhaps I'll nick a horse. I don't know, a city, somewhere where the risk of freezing to death is nil. Can we talked tomorrow? I'm to bed, now."

"Bed? It's just morning now."

"Tonight then."

"All right, tonight. Please don't be rash in this though, Addy."

* * *

What can I say, the new season has inspired me.


End file.
